When You Come Back to Me: Sequel to Shekan
by mochachill
Summary: Sequel to Shekan. The Enterprise crew is reunited, only to face a new threat. (Tu/S)


When You Come Back to Me (Sequel to Shekan)  
Author: C.J. (McCool21)  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: Tu/S, R, M, A, T, P  
Category: Action/Adventure, Romance, Angst  
Summary: Sequel to Shekan. The Enterprise crew is reunited, only to face a new threat. 

SPECIAL NOTE: The LD Awards are currently running. Nomination must be in by July 30, at which point voting will begin. If you are a fan of Hoshi fic, please do your favorite authors the service of voting for them.  www.lingdata.net

Beta: Lizard, whose excellence at beta reading has been surpassed only by her patience with my rewrites and LENGTHY chapters. Also, thanks to my 'creative consultants' Susan217 and my hubby. 

***** 

**Prologue**

"They'll be in firing range in five minutes." 

"We have ten minutes until Enterprise intercepts! Can't you make this bleeding thing go any faster?!" 

"All due respect, Lieutenant, but I'm learning as I go. And I'm pretty sure I'm getting top speed out of it." 

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed chanced a look over at the man on his right. Sweat glistened against the young man's dark skin; his lips were pressed together in concentration. The prosthetics on his cheeks, forehead, and chin, forming the same "skin bubbles" that Malcolm wore, did nothing to hide the tension on Travis's face. 

"I know, Travis," Malcolm said tightly. Ensign Mayweather didn't spare him a glance and Reed turned back to the panel in front of him. He blinked furiously and rubbed at his eyes. The damn contacts he was wearing were designed to make his eyes as black as Travis's—and to stay in place until Phlox himself took them out. They itched furiously, even more than the new adhesive Phlox had developed to ensure a punch in the face wouldn't dislodge the prosthetics. 

"How are you coming with the weapons?" Travis asked him. 

"I think I've got them online…we've got some decent firepower, but it'll be hard to hold off very many until Enterprise arrives." 

At that, white teeth flashed. "Well, we'll just have to make ourselves a hard target. You do the shooting, sir, and I'll keep us out of their way." 

Despite the desperate situation, Malcolm almost laughed at Travis's confidence. It hadn't been that long since he'd believed he was invincible—the vanity of youth. Followed by a long period of a willingness to sacrifice himself for the greater good. But of course, there were higher stakes for him now. _I want to make it, dammit._

As if reading his thoughts, Travis looked over at him fast. "Don't worry, Malcolm. We'll get you back to Sabah so you can finish up that honeymoon." The young man grinned at him again, this time lasciviously. Malcolm chuckled out loud, grinning back. 

The first shot hit their little stolen ship, shaking it, and the usual sparks flew out around them, sprinkling their skin with tiny coals. Their enemy had arrived.  
The humor of their situation disappeared, and Malcolm focused his attention on returning fire. 

"Four of them. Let me see what I can do about that," Malcolm muttered. His gaze narrowed to the instruments in front of him—his vision outside of their hull. "One moment…" He pushed a few buttons, and one of the small craft following them exploded. 

The vessel was so close that debris from the explosion rammed into their own ship. The craft quaked; Malcolm's face slammed forward into the weapons panel. His head buzzed and pain surged in his face. 

"You ok?" Travis asked. His death grip on the helm control had protected him from the impact. 

Malcolm was already up again, trying to gain a weapons' lock on the next ship. He ignored the blood running down his face from his nose and didn't bother to answer. 

"Four minutes until Enterprise reaches us," Travis informed him unnecessarily. Knowing the numbers didn't make Malcolm's job any easier, or slow his heart, which was slamming against his ribcage. 

"Three more, Travis. We surprised the first one, but I can't take all of the rest," he said. Another shot rattled the ship. 

"Guess we'll just have to outrun them," Travis said, grinning again now. 

Malcolm was about to point out that their enemy's ships were identical and would go just as fast, when Travis pulled hard to starboard. Malcolm had to fight to maintain his seat and the ship shook violently. 

Looking at his sensors, Malcolm realized they were now directly behind one of the enemy ships. He locked weapons and fired. The ship ahead of them took a hit; the second shot he fired destroyed it. 

Travis bellowed in triumph. _He's enjoying this_, Malcolm thought irritably. He'd never seen the Ensign like this before. 

The train of thought was lost when he looked again at the sensors. "Travis…," he started. He didn't get the chance to tell the Ensign about the half-dozen other ships that had mysteriously appeared on his sensors. As the console in front of him exploded, Malcolm saw Travis's face, eyes wide, and knew the Ensign had seen for himself. 

The explosion spread across the entire front of the little ship, blowing Malcolm backwards. His face burned like fire and when he hit the deck behind him, he had to beat at the flames that he felt on his chest and in his hair. Even as he put them out, he looked frantically at his comrade. 

Travis lay next to him, eyes open. A piece of the helm was embedded in the Ensign's chest, a red flood welling around it. It was already spreading onto the floor of the little cabin. 

"Travis?" Malcolm rasped. He rolled onto his side, closer to the younger man, short of breath. Despite his own injuries, his mind was clear. He knew they only had seconds left. Thinking, _I'm sorry, __Sabah_, he gripped Travis's lifeless hand. 

*****  
**Part I **

**Chapter 1**

_Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after a moment or lifetime, is certain for those who are friends_.  
Richard David Bach  
  
_There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning_  
Louis L'Amour 

*Enerol (or Ene) is the Jafari word for mother. Divad (or Vad) is the word for father. 

~~~~~~~~  
"Nita! Nita, stop!" 

Hoshi Sato shouted after her daughter. Nita looked back. Almond-shaped dark eyes bristled with irritation over her Tucker-tilted nose. Her cheeks were touched with pink by the cool air. "Enerol! I want to see Vad!"* 

"Your father will be back from the fields soon, so you can wait. And help me." Normally, it was fine with Hoshi when Nita chose to follow Trip. But today was special. The Batalban, the village's autumn celebration, would begin shortly after the men returned from the fields. Hoshi was still attempting to complete her part of the preparations. A difficult task when combined with keeping a handle on a restless child. 

Nita trudged back to her mother's side. Hoshi looked at her. "Hand me that bowl, Nita-chan?" The little girl grabbed the bowl, which contained the main ingredient to her father's favorite food. A sugar substitute, her mother called it, although Nita had never tasted sugar. 

As she handed it to her mother, she informed her, "I'm going with him tomorrow." 

Hoshi didn't look up while she stirred the pot over the fire. Nita adored Trip; she preferred spending her time in the fields with him—and she had inherited her mother's stubborn nature. 

Like all children born in the village, Nita aged more quickly than the adults—but very slowly by Earth standards. After all of the time Hoshi and Trip had lived on Massum—decades—Nita was now approximately six years old, physically. Hoshi had always thought Phlox would've had a field day figuring that out. 

Before Nita could continue to argue, Hoshi held up a hand. "Here he comes." 

Nita said something else, but Hoshi only listened with half an ear. She was watching the man that approached her fire, walking against a backdrop of colossal tree trunks and twirling gold leaves. He was wearing a green overshirt and his usual brown pants. Dirt was caked under his nails and smudged one cheek. _Beautiful_, she thought, not even aware of the smile that brushed over her face. 

Nita launched herself at him, shouting gleefully. Hoshi smiled again and squelched the urge to roll her eyes. Nita's face was an interesting combination of her parents' features. But her body, her actions, even her usually genial personality were her father's. And she had the man wrapped around her finger, no doubt about it. 

"Hey, baby." Trip caught Nita easily, planting a big kiss on top of her dark hair before he released her. But he kept walking until he could put his hands on Hoshi. 

"Batalban mukara," she told him in Jafari, after he'd kissed her with warm lips. _Our harvest gratitude_. The Batalban was in honor of the village men, who worked the fields and provided food for the villagers to eat during the winter. In the spring, the men would return the favor with the Eydnac, the women's festival. 

He smiled and ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face. "Thanks. Best harvest ever this year." 

He only grinned when Hoshi used her sleeve to wipe the dirt off of his cheek. 

"You say that every year," Nita informed him. She settled onto a tree root bench. 

"And I mean it every time," Trip said, dropping onto the branch beside her. He nudged his daughter with his arm. Giggling, Nita stood up on the bench, draping herself around his shoulders. 

Hoshi reflected again on how very, very lucky she was. When they first came to Massum, she had only been able to see what she was losing from her old life. Until she realized that this place could be home, too, as long as Trip was there. 

Trip threw his head back and laughed at his daughter's chatter, one of his large hands holding her tiny ones in place around his neck. Watching them, Hoshi felt absolute happiness. She suddenly had an urge to send her daughter on to the festival alone, so that she'd have time to thank him properly for her extraordinary life. 

He turned his eyes to her then. Her feelings were reflected in his glance—but they had all been waiting for the festival for weeks. Tonight, though, after Nita was asleep… 

"So, where're my gifts?" he demanded. Each family prepared gifts for their men who were old enough to work in the fields. Nita shoved a few crudely wrapped packages into his hands and moved back to sit beside him. Hoshi sat down across from them, waiting for Trip to open them. 

"Nita wrapped them herself," she told him, with an emphasis that betrayed her pride in her daughter. 

Trip grinned and tore into the paper. He responded to each surprise with his usual boisterous enthusiasm, which Nita echoed cheerfully. Finally he opened the last gift. His eyes widened as he saw what it was. "Hey, this is exactly…" 

As he spoke, he looked up at his family, eyes revealing his pleasure. His gaze moved past Hoshi. She saw the satisfaction drain, replaced by confusion. 

She _knew_. She didn't want to turn around, because it would mean facing her past. Making decisions. "Trip?" she asked, her voice shrill. She wanted him to greet his Jafari friend Tiron. To go back to his gift, because the look on his face was her imagination. 

But the confusion moved to joy instead, and he stood up, letting his new shirts and tools drop. Now Nita's eyes were following his. 

"Hoshi." The voice came from behind her. Even in that one word, she could hear the clipped accent—the familiar tone. One that she could never hear again, because the man who spoke her name that way was dead. 

Hoshi stood and turned. A group of people was standing there, most of them dressed in Starfleet uniforms. But she only saw one, his eyes locked on her. 

"Hoshi," he said again, softly. The ghost of Malcolm Reed smiled at her. Looking very solid and real. 

*****

**Chapter 2**

Malcolm was amazed. Although Jon had described this place to him, he simply hadn't done it justice. They emerged from the mountain where the Sh'ron temple was housed and looked out over a very different landscape. The city of Timral was gone; before them was only forest and hills. 

It was summer when Malcolm stepped into the Sh'ron, but here it was autumn. Golden leaves were piled almost knee deep on the forest floor, although a distinct path had been cleared from the temple to the village. A village carved out of the enormous, still-living trees. 

And nothing had prepared him for seeing Hoshi again. Nor Trip. And certainly not the little girl, whom even he could see belonged to his best friend and the woman he once loved. 

Jon had led the way down the temple's stone steps and on to the village, but when Malcolm spotted them, sitting around a fire and talking, he quickly moved ahead of the rest. 

Hoshi had her back to them, but Trip glanced up as they approached. He looked stunned, but the surprise shifted fast to happiness. Beside him, the little girl just looked curious. 

Malcolm transferred his gaze to Hoshi's back, now stiff. "Hoshi," he called quietly. She stood very slowly and turned to him. She looked exactly as she had when he had last seen her. He recognized disbelief, even fear, in her face. He said her name again, partially to soothe her, and partially because it felt good to be able to put it to a face, her face, again. "Hoshi." 

"Oh…" Hoshi breathed. "Malcolm?" Her voice was questioning, like she didn't really believe that he was there. And then she was across the space between them, only stumbling once, and her arms wrapped tight around his neck. _No uncomfortable, distant moments for Hoshi_, he thought wryly. He had forgotten that about her. He closed his arms around her, squeezing her against him. 

Out loud, he laughed a little and said, "Same old Hoshi." She pulled back enough that he could study her face. While she ran cool fingers over his cheeks, his hair, he smiled and said, "Well, maybe not totally." 

She turned and followed his gaze to Nita. She smiled and stepped back, but maintained a grip on his hand. She gestured for her daughter to approach. 

Trip had already greeted Jon with a bear hug. He snatched T'Pol into a quick hug and only laughed at the look on her face. Coming to Malcolm, he stuck out his hand. Malcolm shook it firmly. 

"We thought you were dead. I've never been s' happy to be wrong," Trip said, grinning. Before Malcolm could respond, Trip yanked him into an embrace. The force pulled Hoshi, still gripping his other hand, slightly off balance. She let go and turned to greet Jon and T'Pol. 

"It's good to see you, Trip," Malcolm said. For no reason that he could name, they both burst out laughing. They hugged again, and Malcolm noticed another difference in his friend—the smell of earth had replaced the familiar engineering scent that Trip had always carried. 

"Aherm." Malcolm heard his wife clear her throat, subtly reminding him. Trip stepped back. 

"Oh, of course…I'm sorry, darling. Trip, Hoshi…this is my wife, Sabah." 

The pretty, dark woman stepped forward, holding out her hand. "I'm honored to meet you," she said, smiling brightly. Her husky voice contained just a touch of the Middle East. 

Malcolm unconsciously moved closer to her, grateful for her presence. Seeing the two of them was…stranger than he had expected it to be. 

Trip and Hoshi exchanged quick looks before Hoshi took Sabah's hand. 

"I think you have one more introduction left," Jon reminded them. 

Trip grinned with immense pride. "Everybody, I'd like you to meet our daughter, Nita." He touched the pretty, petite girl's head. "Nita, this is Captain Archer, Subcommander T'Pol, Malcolm, and Sabah. You've heard about most of them before." 

"She understands English?" Jon asked. 

"Yes, I understand," Nita said, smiling now. "Greetings!" Her initial curiosity satisfied, the girl was practically wiggling with excitement. 

"She speaks English, Jafari, and Japanese, so far. No daughter of Hoshi's is gonna get away with speakin' one measly language," Trip said, rolling his eyes. Hoshi gave him a look and he smiled. 

"I can't tell you how happy I am to meet you," Jon said, addressing Nita. He made a point of shaking her little hand. Nita looked surprised, even confused by the gesture. 

Trip chuckled. "We don't shake hands much around here," he told Jon. "Mostly just hug." He grimaced to demonstrate his opinion of that tradition. 

"Well, in that case…" Jon picked up the tiny girl and hugged her. Not one to be shy, Nita only giggled, settling easily into his arms. 

Hoshi moved over to Trip and took his hand. Addressing the entire group, she said, "I hope everyone is hungry. You came at the perfect time—we were just about to have a party." 

***** 

Malcolm sat far from the group, partially concealed by his distance from a blazing bonfire.  
  
The party, set in an enormous clearing in the center of the village, had been going on for hours. To kick things off, Hoshi and Trip had participated in a ceremony that involved Hoshi ceremoniously washing Trip's hands and face in water before spooning his favorite dish into his mouth. The children and few adults without mates watched all of the women do the same for their men. 

Hoshi tried to take the whole thing very seriously, but as she was feeding him, Trip leaned forward and whispered to her with a grin. Jon and Malcolm hooted and catcalled along with the Jafari when Trip ended up wearing more of his dessert than he got in his mouth. Trip laughed and kissed Hoshi fast with his food-smeared mouth, so that she pulled away with just as much food on her. 

After all of the Jafari had performed the ceremony, several musicians began a lilting song. To Malcolm's ear, that same song had continued for the duration of the party, just changing in tone and speed occasionally. The dancing started, couples and children all performing complicated steps as they spun around the fire. 

Malcolm sat it out with T'Pol while Trip taught Sabah the steps, and Hoshi tried to lead Jon—with less success. Finally, Jon threw up his hands in defeat and the two of them returned to their seats. Sabah had nearly mastered the steps before she and Trip returned, both laughing uproariously. 

Malcolm was hoarse from shouting encouragement to his friends and wife. He had eventually moved apart to where he could observe, a role he was much more comfortable with. 

Across the flames, Trip sprawled next to Jon now, laughing as Jon answered question after question about the Enterprise, Trip's family, and anything else that came to Trip's mind. The Commander looked almost as he did three years ago, except he was deeply tanned and his hair was longer and bleached blond by the sun. The cheerful nature and laugh hadn't changed either, although decades of speaking Jafari had softened his accent. 

Jon just looked absolutely ecstatic to be with his friend again. Occasionally, the Captain would throw a comment over his shoulder to Hoshi, Sabah, and T'Pol. 

Malcolm glanced out into the dancers. Nita twirled in a cluster of children, straight brown hair flying around. She gave herself to the dance with such abandon that Malcolm had to smile. There was so much of Trip in her complete lack of self-consciousness—but still when Malcolm watched her, he saw Hoshi in the graceful, precise movements. 

His attention caught, he didn't notice Hoshi approaching until she was standing in front of him, backlit by the enormous fire. Squinting to see her shadowed features, he recognized her questioning glance. He stretched his smile even farther in welcome. She sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and leaned back against the tree where he rested. She saw where his eyes were lingering. 

"Nita Madeline Tucker," she said. "Nita for my grandmother and Madeline for your sister—we wanted to honor you, after what you did for us…and you told me once that you hate _your_ name." Her face was lit by the fire now; her dark eyes reflected the light—and pride in her daughter. 

He was pleased by her statement, but didn't know how to respond. Instead he said, "I can't believe you're a mother." 

Hoshi laughed. "Neither can I. Of Trip Tucker's child no less. Who'd have thought?" 

"Certainly not me," Malcolm chuckled ruefully. 

Hoshi smiled at him. "Sabah is wonderful." 

"Yes, she is." He grinned at the expression on her face. "Not who you would have pictured me with?" 

"Actually, she kind of reminds me of…" 

"Don't say it," Malcolm groaned. 

"Trip," she finished, laughing out loud. 

Malcolm grimaced. "I suppose there are a few similarities—sense of humor, tendency to talk…quite a bit at times. It's enough that even the Captain commented once. Although he took it back when he saw the look on my face." 

Hoshi laughed again. 

Malcolm glanced over at his wife. She was talking animatedly; Jon and Trip were shaking with laughter at whatever she was saying. He said, "She saved my life. I couldn't be without her now." 

Hoshi was looking at Trip. Nita had just approached him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his lap. Hoshi sighed happily. "And I would be lost without Trip." 

Once so in love with each other, the two of them sat and watched the people they loved now. Malcolm shook his head, thinking what a surreal experience the entire day had been, culminating in this moment. He said, "So much has changed. All for the better, I know; I wouldn't go back now. But…" He looked at her. 

"But you can't help feeling a little sad at the same time?" Hoshi finished for him. The wind lifted her hair off of her face, and for the first time he saw a real change in her—the kind of wisdom that comes from having lived much longer than the people around you. 

She took his hand, and he put his other hand over hers. Far from the fire, the air in the forest was quite cool, and her hand was cold against his skin. 

"Exactly." He sighed. Tilting his head back against the tree, he watched the stars that were exposed by the opening in the trees. "We had such grand plans, didn't we? Not just you and I, but the whole group of us, headed out on our adventures. All of it gone the moment you and Trip stepped into the Sh'ron." He paused. "Thought we'd have more than four years, anyway." 

"You and Trip and the others had grand plans," Hoshi replied, watching his face. "I just wanted to learn a few new languages and go back to teaching. Which I'm doing now, in a way." She paused. "I'm happy here, Malcolm." 

He took his gaze from the sky, settling it on her profile. "And now we've come to take you away from all of it. What will you do?" 

Hoshi was looking at Trip now. He and Jon had Nita pinned between them, ruthlessly tickling while the girl begged for mercy. 

"We'll go back." Her voice was matter-of-fact. 

*****  
**Chapter 3**

Rain dripped off the hood of Trip's cloak, running into his eyes. Four days had passed since Malcolm and the others arrived in the village. They started their preparations the next morning, and now they were making the final trek to the Sh'ron. 

Four days was all it took to pack up and say goodbye to their friends, their home, their lives. Well, three days, really. The day after the festival, the rain came. They had gone about their preparations, and spent the rest of the time with everyone crammed into the home-tree. It was a spacious habitat, easily accommodating their family, but four extra people pushed its limits. On the third day, they made the decision to go on with their plans, regardless of the weather. 

Trip woke before it was light on their last morning. He opened his eyes and found Hoshi propped on one elbow watching him. Tears ran the length of her lashes, dripping silently onto his face. Not speaking, Trip slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her mouth down to his. They quietly made love for the last time in their home, while everyone else slept. 

Afterwards, they both lay awake, Hoshi in his arms, until the others began to stir. With an odd mixture of regret and excitement in his stomach, Trip slipped out of their bed and started their last day on Massum. 

Now, he was taking his daughter away from the only place she'd ever known, taking her from near immortality and returning her to a usual human lifespan. He knew from experience just how fast those years would go. 

The little group trudged through the rain, each carrying a load of the family's possessions, Trip leading the way. Malcolm and Sabah had gone ahead several hours before, to avoid any potential problems that might be caused by the time discrepancy between this world and their destination. T'Pol had suggested she and Jon do the same, but the Captain was insistent that they stay with Trip and Hoshi as long as possible. 

Jon fell into step beside him now, muck squishing under his feet. "You ok, Trip?" 

Trip swiped at the rain catching in his hair and eyelashes. "Ya know, I've lived here longer than I lived on the other side. Just kinda hard to imagine what our lives'll be like." 

His oldest friend looked at him seriously from under a Starfleet-issue cap. "Whatever happens, none of you will ever be alone." 

"I know." Trip smiled sadly. "Thanks." 

They had said their goodbyes in the village, so there was no party of Jafari to see them off this time. Just the humans, plus one Vulcan, to climb the clammy stone steps of the temple. Once they reached the top of the immense staircase, the rain didn't allow them time to turn and linger over the landscape. 

Inside, everyone threw back their hoods or pulled off wet hats. Hoshi moved to stand beside Trip. She had lifted Nita into her arms once they reached the top of the stairs. Now, Nita reached out her arms and transferred herself from Hoshi's arms to Trip's. "You ok, sweet cheeks?" Trip asked her. Against his neck, she nodded. 

There was an awkward pause. Finally, Jon said, "Well, guess we might as well get started. T'Pol?" 

T'Pol opened a black case and extracted a hypospray. Without asking, she moved through the group, injecting each of them. Nita made a face at the shot, but didn't protest. 

"Your daughter is small; the three of you should have no problem using the Sh'ron together. You should wait one hour before following us," T'Pol said. They both nodded; she had told them all of that before. 

Jon looked at Trip and Hoshi. "See you on the other side." 

Trip grinned lopsidedly, nodding again. Jon and T'Pol disappeared into the back rooms of the temple. 

The family was left alone. 

They settled in the doorway of the temple, resting on the floor and looking out through the rain over the forest and hills. Hoshi curved herself against Trip, and Nita quickly fell asleep across their laps. Her parents whispered quietly to each other while they waited, careful not to wake her. 

When it was time, Trip stood, resting Nita against one shoulder, and held out a hand to Hoshi. She accepted it, allowing him to help her to her feet. Against him, Nita stirred. They walked through the first two rooms, stopping before the Sh'ron. 

He held Hoshi's tear-filled eyes with his own. She took a deep breath that was meant to be calming. It sounded ragged. 

"It'll be all right, Hoshi," he told her. He kissed her. 

"I know," she said, trying to sound brave. It had been a long time since he'd heard that tone in her voice, he realized regretfully. 

"I love you," he said. He didn't have any other comfort to offer. 

"I love you, too," she said, seriously. 

"You ready for an adventure, kiddo?" he asked Nita, forcing cheerfulness into his voice. She nodded, eyes enormous. 

There was nothing else to say. Trip shifted Nita's weight to the side so that they could all cram into the artifact together. With a last look at the temple, at their home, Trip and Hoshi stepped into the Sh'ron.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

"Well, I see decon hasn't changed," Trip remarked. "Still borin'." He was sitting against the wall, shifting uncomfortably in Starfleet issue underwear. Their own clothes, along with all of their belongings, needed to go through decontamination, so Phlox had thoughtfully provided a change of clothes for everyone. Even Nita, currently propped against her father's legs, was wearing an enormous T-shirt as clothing. 

From her place on the bench between T'Pol and Sabah, Hoshi said, "Mmm." Eyes closed, she was obviously enjoying herself. 

Next to Trip, Jon smiled. "Relax, Trip. You'll have a chance to see your old haunts in a little while. But since we've got a while to go, I did arrange a little surprise." As he talked, he stood up and walked to the far corner, opening a panel. Inside was a communication screen. Pushing the com on the wall, Jon said, "We're ready, Ensign." 

Trip eyed him, then turned to Malcolm on his other side. The Lieutenant just smiled and motioned for Trip to join Jon. Extracting himself carefully from his daughter, Trip stood and walked over. Now the entire room was watching them curiously. 

The screen blipped on. Trip found himself looking back at his mother. 

She screamed. Everyone jumped. 

"Trip!" Tears rolled down the older woman's pretty face, her words softened by her accent. "That officer said you were back, but…oh baby, it's so good to see you." 

Trip grinned, his own eyes feeling a little damp. He leaned into the screen, lifting a hand to it as if he could touch her face. "Hi, Ma. God, I missed you, too. How is everybody?" 

"Oh, they're fine. The important thing is, how are you? Jon told me a little about where you went; he said you were all right. But I didn't really believe him until now." 

"Yeah, I'm ok." Trip ran nervous fingers through his hair. "Listen, there're some people I want to introduce you to…" He gestured wildly to Hoshi and Nita. Jon stepped out of the way so that they could all cram in, and Trip picked Nita up to put her at screen level. "Ma, this is Nita …my daughter. Honey, this is your Gramma Tucker." 

His mother gaped at him before patting her blond hair frantically, worried about her appearance for such an important moment. To Nita, she cooed, "Oh, aren't you beautiful? You call me Nana." 

Nita offered a hesitant smile. 

Grinning proudly, Trip placed his free hand on the back of Hoshi's neck, up under her hair. "An' this is Hoshi, her mother." 

"Hello, Mrs. Tucker," Hoshi said with a smile. "I've been waiting to meet you for a very long time." 

"Hoshi? Oh yes, Jon told me about you, too. Aren't you lovely?" Mrs. Tucker gushed, beaming at Hoshi. Looking back at Trip, she said, "I think Nita looks just like me, don't you, Trip? I can't get over this…you, a father and a husband." 

Trip suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. To cover, he grinned broadly. "Yeah, it's pretty great, huh?" 

Mrs. Tucker narrowed her eyes. A realization was creeping into her face. "When _did_ the two of you marry?" 

Trip turned red up to the roots of his hair. He was well aware of his mother's feelings about marriage before children. "Well, we were in a different culture. Ya see, the Jafari believe…" 

"Charles Tucker the Third, I am not interested in the beliefs of a bunch of Jawaris." 

"Jafari, Ma." 

He needn't have bothered. She continued as if he hadn't said a word. "Are you telling me you have a half-grown DAUGHTER and you still haven't married her mother?" 

"Ma, she's hardly half-grown," Trip told her, dodging the larger question. 

Mrs. Tucker snorted, arms crossed over her chest in a gesture that Trip knew well. 

He looked around the room for help. Most of the adults were gathered on the opposite side of the chamber. They had apparently found a fascinating wall panel that required their full attention and an in-depth discussion. 

Nita, on the other hand, was watching her grandmother dress down her father with total absorption. "What's married?" she asked. 

Trip dropped her back onto her feet, out of sight of the screen, and slapped a hand over her mouth. Mrs. Tucker was aghast. 

Still at Trip's side, Hoshi spoke up. "Really, Mrs. Tucker, it's all right. Trip and I are very happy. In fact, we've actually been together longer than you and Mr. Tucker. We are completely committed, in every way." She smiled soothingly. 

The woman on the view screen snorted. "I'm sure you are. In every way except the one that counts. Don't worry, honey, this is not how I raised him and I'm going to take care of everythin'." She moved as if trying to see around Trip and Hoshi. When she couldn't, she bellowed, "JONATHON ARCHER!" 

Trip released Nita and dragged both hands over his face in frustration. Jon reluctantly stepped into her line of vision. "Yes, Mrs. Tucker?" 

"I want you to marry these two, right now!" 

"Ma!" Trip said, exasperated. "This ain't the best time—we're all standin' here in our underwear, for crying out loud." 

"All the more reason—honestly, what kind of impression are you makin' on my granddaughter? Well, Captain?" 

"Mrs. Tucker, I think Trip is right." Something bumped against Trip's legs. Glancing down, he saw Sabah scrunched below the view screen. She was fiddling with the wires. Trip suddenly realized that he had always loved Sabah. A lot. 

Jon continued. "Maybe we should wait on this for a little while longer…" The screen started to shimmer. "…And it looks like we're losing you we'llhavetocallyouback." He finished fast, signaling to Sabah. The screen went dead. 

Trip stumbled backwards to the bench. He propped his elbows onto his knees and dangled his head. Raising his face to look up at Hoshi, he said, "What say we postpone the call to your parents, darlin'?" 

*****  
**Chapter Five**

After the adults had donned fresh uniforms, they went straight from decon to the Mess Hall. It was the middle of the night, Enterprise time, so there were few people in the halls. Hoshi was relieved in truth—she was tired and didn't feel up to dealing with wellwishers and curious crew. They walked down the quiet corridors in a cluster, Jon and T'Pol leading. Malcolm and Sabah had slipped off to the armory to check on things, promising to join them later. 

Nita held the Captain's hand, eyes huge as he pointed out different items of interest. Hoshi glanced at Trip, walking beside her, and chuckled out loud. His eyes were as big as Nita's. At the sound of her laugh, he glanced at her. Catching her watching him, he grinned. "I feel like I'm dreamin'," he whispered to her. 

She grinned back, taking his hand. "I know what you mean," she said softly. "I keep expecting to wake up back in our home-tree." 

Trip's face changed, moving to concern. "You ok?" 

She nodded slowly, looking around the corridor as they walked. "I'd forgotten how much I missed this…the longer we're here, the happier I am that we are." 

Trip kissed her. "I'm glad to hear it, babe." 

"Don't call me babe," she said absently, out of habit. She stopped, pulling him up short. When he looked down at her curiously, she laid one hand against his cheek and pulled him down for a real kiss, breathing in the scent of him. His free arm closed around her waist, moving her closer into him. 

"Gack." Faces still close, they turned their heads to look at the others. Their daughter was making horrible gagging sounds, noises that she had been perfecting for years. 

Jon had a grin on his face so large that it looked like it might split. T'Pol stood close to him—and Hoshi noticed that Jon's hand was resting on her upper arm, lightly, as if he had reached out to catch her attention and forgotten it was there. T'Pol didn't seem to notice either, until she followed Hoshi's gaze. 

She stepped back from Jon, saying, "We have arrived, if you care to eat." 

"Well, lead on!" Trip said cheerfully. He smacked a kiss on the side of Hoshi's face before announcing, "I'm starved and I have waited a LONG time for this!" He charged ahead through the Mess Hall door. 

Rolling her eyes, but smiling, Hoshi brought up the rear. 

The first thing she saw when she entered the room (besides the back of Trip racing to the food dispensary) was a handsome black man seated at one of the tables, a forgotten cup in front of him. 

"Hoshi!" Travis said, grinning widely. He stood up immediately. 

Hoshi felt her daughter's little hands press tight around her thigh. She swung her up onto her hip even as she smiled and hurried to Travis. They met in a huge hug, smashing Nita between them. The girl made a little mewing sound that caused Hoshi to laugh and lean back. Trip called, "Hey, Travis!" around a mouthful of something. 

"Hey, Trip!" Travis looked over at him. Trip just held up a finger and turned back to filling his plate. 

Laughing, Travis looked back at Hoshi and Nita. Hoshi quickly introduced the two of them. If Travis was surprised, he didn't show it. "Hello," he said, offering a handshake to the little girl. 

Nita accepted it solemnly before grinning. "Ma, Captain Archer promised to show me ice cream. Can I?" 

Hoshi decided not to comment, _yet_, on the new use of 'Ma'. "Yes, you may." Nita wiggled out of her arms and took off. 

Travis slung an arm around Hoshi's shoulders. "It's good to see you again, Hosh." 

"You too. What are you doing here so late?" 

Travis smiled at her broadly. "Waiting for you. A lot of the ship doesn't know you're back yet, but I was on the bridge when the Captain called in. I've been waiting here since my shift ended; I had a feeling Trip's stomach would lead him here first." 

Hoshi hugged him again, saying, "Let's sit down, so we can talk." She started to walk, arm around him. She was surprised when Travis stumbled. 

He caught himself on a chair and stood up straight with some difficulty. He tried to laugh it off, smothering the cough that accompanied the laughter. He didn't manage to distract Hoshi. 

"Travis? Are you all right?" 

He smiled sheepishly. "I'm still moving a little slowly." She looked concerned; he turned away. "I'll tell you all about it later." He eased himself into the chair he was leaning on. "Right now, I want to know about your life on Massum. What was it like?" 

***** 

"You know, I haven't seen you eat like this since you were pregnant." 

Trip paused, mouth full, and sent a meaningful glance down the table at his daughter. 

"Har har har," he muttered, glaring across at Jon and stuffing another forkful of pie into his mouth. 

Jon and the other adults, except for T'Pol, laughed. They had pulled several small tables together and were gathered around their makeshift banquet table, finishing up their meals and chatting. 

Hoshi smiled as Malcolm, back from the armory, watched Nita from the corner of his eye. The little girl had slipped from her chair and sidled up to him, leaning against his side. "My father said you are a very brave man," she said, clearly impressed by her namesake, so to speak. The hero worship dawning in her eyes made him look at Hoshi frantically. 

"Down, tiger," Trip said, overhearing her. He reached around Sabah, sitting between him and Malcolm, and caught the back of Nita's T-shirt. With a tug, he had her over to him and seated on his lap. Just for good measure, he leaned around Sabah again and narrowed his eyes at Malcolm. At Malcolm's nervous expression, he grinned widely and winked. 

Beside Hoshi, Travis started to laugh out loud, but his breath caught and he lapsed into a coughing fit. The violence of the attack caused everyone at the table to pause. 

As he caught his breath, Jon said, "Ok, Travis?" A smile played on his lips, but his expression was concerned. 

Travis nodded, waving them off with one hand while he used the other to drink. 

Jon immediately switched the subject. "Since Malcolm moved down the hall to Sabah's quarters, we've been using his old cabin as guest quarters. I was thinking the three of you could stay there. I'll have your things brought down as soon as Phlox is done going over them." 

"Fine," Trip said, watching Travis. "You sure you're all right, Travis?" 

The Ensign was catching his breath now. He had gently pushed aside Hoshi's helping hands on his back. "I'm ok," he said with one more cough. He took another deep breath, smiling cheerfully despite his pallor. "It passes. And it gets better every day." 

Trip looked at Hoshi, eyes curious. She shrugged a little with her eyebrows. When it became clear no one was ready to speak up, Trip demanded, "What's goin' on?" 

Across from Hoshi, Malcolm's eyes were locked on the tabletop, his jaw set. He'd been sitting with his arm thrown casually over the back of Sabah's chair. Now his body was stiff; Sabah didn't speak, but ran her fingers lightly over his chin, forcing him to turn and look at her. The look that passed between them stirred Hoshi's curiosity even more. 

She faced the head of the table again. Trip was watching Jon and T'Pol impatiently. 

T'Pol said, "Perhaps it would be best if this story waited for another time. It would most likely be frightening for a child to hear." 

Hoshi's eyes shifted automatically to her daughter, cradled in her father's arms. As was typical for her, Nita had dropped to sleep instantly the moment she settled down. Very little, short of trumpets, would wake her before morning. 

Trip grinned, giving Nita a little shake. The girl's head lolled against his chest; she showed no signs of waking. 

"She's out." He stood and pushed two chairs together, laying her across the seats. "Nuthin' you can't say in front of her right now." 

T'Pol turned to Hoshi for confirmation; Hoshi nodded. 

"All right," Jon said. "Actually, I know the two of you will have to make some decisions soon, and you do need to hear this first." 

Trip settled back into his seat, eyeing Jon intently. The others at the table were silent, allowing Jon to tell the story. 

"Do you remember our first alien encounter out here—after the Klingons and Suliban?" 

Hoshi shuddered. An image of suspended bodies flickered in her mind, stirring her old fear. She wrestled with it, won, and nodded at Jon. 

In a wary voice, Trip said, "Yeah…" 

Jon settled back in his chair. "A few months ago, we came across another one of their ships. It was in the process of attacking another vessel just like they did us. Naturally, we tried to stop them." 

Hoshi glanced at T'Pol, curious about her reaction. As she expected, there was none. 

Jon continued, looking around the table, particularly at Trip. "As it turns out, they were attacking a Jafari ship." He shifted. "I won't bore you with the details…but with the help of a Vulcan ship that was nearby, we managed to destroy the attacking ship and save the Jafari." 

"Which led to us reopening the human-Jafari negotiations that allowed us to come for you," Malcolm commented. 

"Right," Jon said, drawing their attention again. "But…" 

"Ain't there always a 'but'?" Trip said. 

Jon smiled, saying, "Unfortunately, this time the ship managed to send out a distress call to their people before they were destroyed." 

T'Pol interjected. "We have since learned that they are part of a species called the K'Sarm. They usually operate in remote areas, harvesting triglobulin and similar fluids from the races and ships that have had the…misfortune…of encountering them. They had elected to ignore our first confrontation. They considered the destruction of a second ship an act of war. Since then, they have gone out of their way to target small Vulcan and human vessels." 

"Especially cargo vessels, which have fewer defenses," Travis said darkly. 

"It's a long story," Jon said, "but the gist of it is…an opportunity to infiltrate their organization presented itself. Malcolm and Travis volunteered to act as undercover operatives." 

Hoshi looked at Malcolm and Travis; her pulse was starting to tick against her temples. Neither of them would meet her eyes, pretending to focus on Archer. Beside Malcolm, Sabah gave Hoshi a small smile and looked away, settling even closer to Malcolm. 

"Why you guys?" Trip asked them incredulously. "I thought the Vulcans have people trained to do that sorta thing." 

"The Vulcans have opted to take a more cautious approach to the conflict," T'Pol said. 

"Right, since it's mostly human ships that are attacked," Travis interrupted angrily. When T'Pol merely looked at him blandly, he clamped his mouth shut again. 

Trip nodded. "Ohh. I see some things haven't changed since we've been gone." 

"Regardless," Jon said forcefully, "Starfleet felt a more direct tactic was called for. Malcolm's training and Travis's piloting skills made them good candidates to find positions on a K'Sarm ship, disguised as members of their race. They were supposed to gather information about the K'Sarm's technology and 'hunting' strategy—their flight routes and so on." 

"But we were only there a brief time when Travis was injured in a minor accident," Malcolm said, ignoring Travis's grimace. "Unfortunately, he was knocked unconscious and I wasn't able to stop them from performing medical scans. They realized he was human." 

"Time to go," Travis said sardonically. 

"I grabbed what data I could and…we left," Malcolm said, leaving out an immense amount of detail. He paused. 

Sabah interjected softly. "They stole a shuttle and were headed for a rendezvous with Enterprise when they were overtaken." Her voice got hard as she finished the sentence, and Hoshi watched her, surprised by how icy Sabah's face was now. For the first time, she saw evidence of the security officer in Malcolm's wife. "They destroyed several of the enemy, but there were too many. When we arrived at the rendezvous point, they were under heavy attack. We transported them out at the last second." 

"But not before Travis was badly hurt," Malcolm finished flatly. Hoshi knew that he blamed himself, as always. She almost said something to comfort him—but that wasn't her job anymore. Sabah was already whispering in his ear, even as Travis spoke up. 

"We were both hurt. And I'm fine now, Malcolm." 

"Yes, but it was a bit close, wasn't it? And I never should have allowed you to accompany me." 

"I made that decision, Lieutenant, not you," Jon interrupted. "And he's _all right_—he just needs a little time to heal."  
  
Malcolm didn't answer, choosing instead to seethe quietly. 

Jon looked between Trip and Hoshi. "Their ship was destroyed, so we only managed to recover whatever information they were carrying on their persons. Still, we hope it'll be enough to figure out where their base operation is, or an easy way to dismantle their shields. The Vulcans agreed to take the data to Earth. Starfleet is working on decoding it now. In the meantime, our little war is still on-going." 

Trip whistled. "Wow. But why're you waitin' for Starfleet? Shouldn't we…" 

He stopped, letting the sentence dangle, when Hoshi stood abruptly. Her heart was beating fast, and she walked around the table to Nita, not able to relax until the warm little body was pressed against her chest. "I think that might be enough talk for tonight. Let's just go to bed, all right? We can finish this tomorrow." 

Trip stared at her, and then nodded slowly. He stood up too, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "If ya don't mind, Cap'n?" 

Jon nodded and got to his feet; the rest of them followed suit. 

"Of course," Jon said. "Breakfast tomorrow?" He watched Hoshi carefully—she turned her face into Trip's shoulder to evade his gaze. 

Hoshi felt Trip nod. Although she knew avoiding the topic was only a temporary solution, she was still relieved when Jon said, "Ok. I'll walk you to your quarters." 

*****  
**Chapter 6**

Jon found Trip in Engineering—just as he expected. They had been back four days, and if Trip wasn't in his quarters with his family, he was always in Engineering, following Lieutenant Commander Hess around, catching up on the upgrades that had taken place in his absence. Neither he nor Hoshi had been reinstated to active duty, but they both preferred to spend their time working, regardless. 

Despite many conversations, Hoshi and Trip had yet to make a decision on what they wanted to do. They no longer discussed it in Jon's presence, but he knew what they each wanted. Trip wanted to stay on Enterprise, in whatever capacity, while Hoshi thought Earth was a better place to raise their daughter. Until they decided, Jon hadn't pursued the issues of their posts with Starfleet. There wasn't much point until they knew what they wanted. Not that it kept him from privately making plans…and he was starting to think it was time for them to make up their minds. 

"Hey, Cap'n!" Trip called out to him, catching his attention. Trip cheerfully descended the stairs from the upper level of Engineering to meet him. "Whatcha need?" 

While he talked he moved past Jon, headed for a console. Jon trailed behind him. _Just like old times_. 

"I was looking for you," Jon told him, grinning. Damn, it was good to have his best friend back on board. "I've got the latest Stanford-UT game on disc—thought you might want to join me tonight. Been a while since you saw a water polo match." 

Trip chuckled ruefully while he punched numbers into a keypad. "Yeah, you could say that. I dunno if I even remember the rules." 

"It'll come back to you. Does that mean you're up for it?" 

Trip paused, looking thoughtful. "Well, I don't know what Hoshi's plans are yet…and somebody's gotta stop by Sickbay an' take Nita off Phlox's hands…" 

"I'm one step ahead of you. Hoshi was on the bridge going over some translations with T'Pol when I left. She said to tell you to have fun; she'll take care of Nita." 

Smiling, Trip tapped in a final calculation. He turned back to Jon. "Looks like I'm all yours then." 

"Great. Malcolm and Travis are going to meet us in my dining room. We'll watch the game while we eat. You ready to go?" 

Trip glanced around the room covertly. Leaning a little closer, he said, "Not really. I can't get enough of this place right now. But I think Hess is gonna pop if I don't get outta her territory soon." 

He smiled while he said it, but Jon recognized the unspoken regret in Trip's expression. They turned and made their way out of Engineering. In the corridor, he looked at Trip seriously. "Are you and Hess having a problem?" 

Trip shrugged. "Not really. She's doin' her best to be welcoming. But this has been her ship for a while now—havin' the former Chief Engineer underfoot all the time can't be easy. Hell, she's handling it a lot better than I would have." 

They stepped onto the lift and Jon pressed the button for B deck. While they rode, he looked at Trip thoughtfully. "You know, that actually brings up something that I want to talk to you about." 

Trip's glance said that he knew what Jon was going to say. Jon plunged on anyway. 

"Don't you think it's time you and Hoshi came to a decision about what you're going to do?" 

"Yes." Trip's answer was short. At Jon's look, he continued reluctantly. "It's somethin' Hosh and I gotta work out, Jon. We don't even know if we'd be able to stay—our posts have been filled. And we gotta think about Nita—what kind of place is this for her? _If_ Starfleet would even let us keep her out here." 

"Well, we won't know unless we ask." The lift stopped and they exited, heading for the Mess Hall. "And I can't ask until you know what you want." 

"I know." Irritation was creeping into Trip's voice. 

Jon felt a stab of annoyance. He paused and Trip swung around to face him. "You say that, Trip, but it's been four days. It's time. Maybe the three of us need to sit down and have another conversation about this." 

"The three of us?" Trip's chin was jutting out now, and his voice was rising. "Look, Jon, things aren't the way they used to be. It's not a decision for the three of 'us'." He pointed between Jon and himself. "This is between me and Hoshi. And Nita. Our family. _You_ just aren't a part of the equation. Not yet." 

Jon stared at him speechlessly. A niggling feeling of embarrassment was starting in the back of his mind. 

Trip sighed. The brief glimpse of his old temper subsided at the look on Jon's face. 

"This is a huge decision, and we gotta make it while we're dealin' with a million other changes in our lives. Hell, do you have any idea how unreal the last few days have been for us? We need _time_ to think about it and then decide, as a family, what's best for us. We'll have made our decision by the end of the week. I promise. Now, c'mon. Ya owe me dinner and sports." He nudged Jon with his elbow and walked towards the Mess. 

Jon stared after him, wondering when Trip became the 'wise big brother' in this conversation. 

Trip glanced over his shoulder and noticed his look. He grinned at Jon. "Gotta learn to respect your elders, eh?" 

Jon smiled, shaking his head. "Why do I have the feeling this won't be the last time I hear that?" 

As Jon caught up, Trip laughed and started to walk again, leading the way into the Mess Hall. "You know, I'm startin' to understand why T'Pol's always so damn smug. It's not easy being surrounded by a buncha wet-behind-the-ears kids. Kind of a burden." 

Jon rolled his eyes and chuckled. The door to the Captain's Mess slid open. Travis and Malcolm, seated at the table, both looked up expectantly. Trip's grin widened. 

"Speaking of wet behind the ears…" 

**** 

**Chapter 7**

"A toast." 

Travis's announcement gave everyone at the table pause. They were in the midst of a heated argument regarding whether or not a goalie had committed a foul in the game they had watched earlier. Jon claimed he didn't; Trip swore Jon and the ref were blind. Malcolm and Travis didn't know anything about water polo, so they argued emphatically for whichever side necessary to keep the quarrel going. 

Travis's subject change brought them to a sudden, if begrudging, halt. The others all looked at him, with his glass already in the air, and raised their beers in kind. 

"It wasn't a foul," Jon said out of the side of his mouth. 

Trip's mouth dropped open in outrage, but when he swung back to Jon, the Captain shushed him, nodding towards Travis. 

Trip narrowed his eyes, but looked at Travis. 

"To old friends," Travis said, chuckling. 

"To some things never changing," Malcolm added wryly. 

"Welcome back, Trip," Jon finished with a grin. 

Trip grinned, tipping his glass towards them, and they all drained their beers. 

As soon as he had swallowed, Trip said, "Ya know, I don't remember all that much about the game, but I know an illegal block when I see one." 

"Oh, for God's sake," Malcolm muttered. 

Jon slammed both hands down on the table. "Trip, old buddy, you wouldn't know an ill…" 

Travis placed his glass back on the table with a resounding thud. "Gentlemen," he announced. 

The other three men stopped arguing long enough to turn their attention to him. He rewarded them with a resounding belch. They all snickered like ten-year-old boys. Travis looked embarrassed. 

"What I was going to say is I'm going to call it a night." 

"What?!" Trip demanded. A look from Jon and Malcolm silenced him. He'd almost forgotten that Travis was still recovering. 

Travis grinned at him. "Sorry, Trip. I still get tired easily. But give me a few weeks to get used to this thing and I'll be drinking you under the table. Nobody can party like a boomer can party." 

Trip tilted his head. "Used t' what thing?" 

"Oh," Travis said. "Guess we never mentioned it. Back when Enterprise beamed us off that K'Sarm ship, I was hurt pretty bad. Doc couldn't save one of my lungs. So he replaced most of it with synthetic material." 

Trip whistled. "Damn." 

Travis shrugged. "Ah, I'm pretty lucky, I guess. Doc says it'll work better than the original, once I'm used to it." 

He stood up carefully and walked to the door, the others calling their goodnights. At the door, he paused and looked back. 

"Welcome back, Commander." 

Jon glanced at Trip quickly, trying to gauge his reaction to his old title. Thus far, most of the crew had gone out of their way to avoid mentioning rank to Trip or Hoshi. 

Trip only smiled. Jon privately elected to take that as a good sign. As the door closed on Travis, Jon grinned at his companions and refilled their drinks from the pitcher of beer on the table. Setting the pitcher back down, he looked up and was surprised to find Trip watching him seriously. 

As soon as their eyes met, Trip said, "You know, you never finished that little tale you were spinnin' the other night." 

"Meaning…?" 

"Meanin' I'd like to hear why Starfleet Command is working out a plan to handle the K'Sarm, while we're out here on the front lines, sittin' on our hands." 

His use of "we" pleased Jon even more, but he smothered the reaction. He and Malcolm exchanged a look before Malcolm said, "Well, we haven't exactly been sitting on our hands. We…I did manage to make a copy of the data before we supplied it to Starfleet." 

Trip grinned at them both. "I knew it." 

"I've only had a limited chance to go over it, what with our trip to Massum. But we're working on it." 

"Well, lemme take a look at it with ya. If we put our heads together…" 

The comm sounded, interrupting him. 

"Bridge to Captain Archer." 

Jon sighed heavily. "Hold that thought." 

He walked over to the wall, pressing the comm button. "Go ahead." 

"Sir, we're receiving a distress call. A ship calling for assistance." 

Jon's muscles tightened as Malcolm sat up straighter. "The K'Sarm?" 

"No, sir. Just a general distress call. They say they're having some kind of mechanical malfunction." 

The sudden tension in the room dissipated, and Jon's shoulders relaxed. 

"I'll be right there, Ensign." 

He closed the com link and turned back to them, shrugging. "Looks like we're going to have to cut this short. Sorry, duty calls." 

Malcolm was already standing, and Trip joined him. "Still mechanics to the stars," Trip commented. 

Jon just smiled as they filed out into the Mess and towards the corridor. At the door, he turned in the direction of the Bridge, Malcolm on his heels. Noticing the Lieutenant, he paused. 

"Malcolm, aren't you off duty?" 

"Yes, sir, but…" 

"I think we can handle a distress call without you. There's no telling when we'll even reach this ship. Go home. Tuck in your wife." 

Malcolm looked torn for just a moment, but he was won over when Tucker added, "We've still got time for one more drink, Malcolm. Jon just gave me a bottle of the good stuff as a welcome home present. Come on, you don't know how long it's been since I had good bourbon." 

Jon and Malcolm could both attest to that, having sampled some of Trip's homemade Jafari brew. 

"All right," Malcolm relented, with a small smile. "I suppose I've got time for one more…" 

Trip didn't even let him finish. He yanked on the Lieutenant's arm, dragging him off in the opposite direction from the Captain, heading for their quarters. "Great! Now listen, Malcolm, I need to ask you a favor…" 

As they walked away from Jon, Trip settled his hand on Malcolm's shoulder, talking into his ear. They were at the far end of the corridor when Malcolm's shout caused Jon to pause. "What?! Good God! Tell me you're joking!" 

Jon grinned and kept walking without looking back. 

*****  
**Chapter 8**

"Are you all right?" 

Hoshi dropped her hands from her aching back and smiled at T'Pol. "Fine, thanks. Guess I need to get used to these chairs again." 

T'Pol nodded and stood. "We have been working for many hours. Perhaps we should resume our work tomorrow morning." 

Hoshi stood as well, stretching expansively. "Mmm…that's better. I really do need to pick up Nita. She'll be getting hungry and Phlox doesn't want to deal with a cranky Tucker." 

She turned toward the lift, but paused. Glancing back, she said, "Would you like to join us for dinner, T'Pol? I know you usually eat with the Captain, but he and the boys are going to be playing tonight." She grinned. 

T'Pol inclined her head. "Yes, thank you, Ensign. I would be pleased to join you." 

"Hoshi," Hoshi said, leading the way to the lift. "And I'm glad. Nita will be thrilled. She adores you." 

She would've sworn the Subcommander almost smiled. "I have had very little contact with human children. I've found your daughter to be quite intelligent, despite her tendency to imitate Commander Tucker's emotional demonstrations. However, Vulcan children often struggle with similar issues. She has much potential." 

"Thank you," Hoshi said, smiling. They rode the lift in comfortable silence, exiting onto E Deck. 

Entering Sickbay, they found Nita sitting crosslegged on a biobed. Phlox was leaning with his elbows propped on the end of the bed. The two of them were thoroughly engrossed in the cards they held. 

Neither of them acknowledged the newcomers. 

"Do you have a six?" Phlox asked. 

Nita shook her head solemnly. "No. Go fish." 

Phlox looked up quickly. "What do you mean no? I know perfectly well you have a six." 

Nita's face was as innocent as a newborn. "No, I don't." 

Hoshi rolled her eyes. Trip had taught Nita everything the girl knew about cards, including the ethics of the game—and it showed. 

"Nita," she said. 

Nita and Phlox continued to stare each other down like opponents in a death match. 

"Nita!" Hoshi said loudly. 

Phlox jumped; Nita's little head whipped around. "Yes, Ene?" 

Hoshi suppressed a smile at Nita's expression. She had Trip's "who me?" face down to perfection. 

"I've told you about cheating before." 

"I wasn't…" 

"Nita." 

"But I…" 

"Nita." Hoshi gave the girl her most parental look. 

Nita scrunched her nose up in frustration. "Yes, ma'am." She faced her new friend. "I'm sorry, Dr. Phlox." Leaning close to him, she added, "My father says it's not really cheating, it's just using all your resources." 

"I think perhaps you should take your mother's advice in this case, young lady," Phlox said. He turned and faced Hoshi and T'Pol with a smile. "Good evening." 

Hoshi smiled at her old friend. "Good evening, Doctor. We've come to take Nita for her dinner. Would you like to join us?" 

Phlox smiled broadly. "I would be delighted." 

Nita hopped off the bed and started across the Sickbay, heading for the mess. It had only been a few days but she already knew her way around the ship as well as any crewmember. Porthos, who was Nita's frequent companion since they'd been introduced, stood up from the corner where he'd been sleeping, stretched, and padded after her. 

Hoshi and T'Pol turned to follow. "Hoshi," Phlox said, and she turned back. "Could I have a moment first?" 

She paused, momentarily caught by indecision. T'Pol solved the problem by saying, "I will take Nita to the Mess Hall. You can join us when you are finished." 

Hoshi smiled at her gratefully, touched again by the Subcommander's interest in Nita. T'Pol only nodded and followed Nita out, listening patiently to the little girl's chatter. 

"What is it, Doctor?" Hoshi asked curiously. 

"As you know, I've been investigating the age discrepancy in the three of you. I've studied the scans I took, as well as the information you've given me. I, of course, have no explanation for the time difference that you've experienced. But I have narrowed down the possible reasons for your delayed aging." 

"Really?" Hoshi said, intrigued. 

"Yes," Phlox said, crossing the room to turn on a monitor. "However, I still have a few questions." The screen shimmered and displayed a human outline. The shifting colors meant nothing to Hoshi, although the overall shape told her it was probably a scan of Trip. 

"I took these scans of Trip this morning. I compared them to the data I gathered from your first day back. You see here…" Phlox glanced back and saw that Hoshi was watching him instead of the screen, a doubtful look on her face. He relented, turning from the screen. "The point is that your cells are still aging at a delayed rate. But faster than they would have done on Massum. Which means that the cause is lingering in your systems, but dissipating quickly." 

Hoshi soaked this in. She asked the question that had bothered her most. "What about Nita? Why has she aged faster than me or Trip?" 

Phlox sighed. "That is the greatest mystery at this point. Even now, she is aging more quickly than either of you." Catching Hoshi's concerned look, he quickly assured her, "But I have every reason to think that the process will even out once this undetermined element has left your bodies." 

"You said you have questions for me?" 

"Yes. I need some information about your life on Massum. I want you to think back to what things you and Trip might have experienced that Nita did not. An area that she had restricted access to…or maybe an item in your diet." 

Hoshi leaned back on a counter, pursing her lips. Brows drawn together, she shook her head slowly. "I can't think of anything…Nita ate and did everything that we did." 

"It would be something she partook of, but to a lesser degree than either of you. From what you've told me, the aging difference was common to all of the children in your village, so it would be something that all of the children did or didn't experience." 

"No…" Hoshi said slowly. She ran over things in her mind, checking off items that didn't fit. She couldn't come up with any activities that children were excluded from…and they ate all of the same things. She tried to remember their usual dishes. Her own favorite was a vegetable stew that reminded her of her grandmother's oden recipe. Trip and Nita shared a sweet tooth… 

Her eyes snapped back to Phlox. "Lirtca." 

He tilted his head curiously. 

"We, the adults, drank lirtca. It's a sweetened water. The children don't drink it; we give…gave them mirl instead, a plant-based juice with a greater vitamin concentration." She stopped, excitement draining. "But no. Lirtca is made with the same thing that I used in all of Nita's favorite desserts." 

Phlox looked excited. "If you didn't eat those desserts often, it could be the exact thing I'm looking for." He stood up straighter. "I'm apologize, Hoshi, but I won't be able to join you for dinner. But if you could stop by tomorrow morning when you drop off Nita…" 

Hoshi felt a twinge of guilt. The doctor had been so kind to watch Nita up until now, but it wasn't a permanent solution to childcare. "I was thinking I had better keep Nita myself tomorrow, Doctor. I don't want to impose on you any longer…" 

"Nonsense," Phlox said briskly. "I've never had the opportunity to spend time with a human child before. It has been most enlightening. And I am eager to solve this mystery." 

Hoshi hesitated. And sighed. "Thank you, Doctor. But I promise it won't be for much longer." 

"Excellent." Phlox was already across the room, calling up unknown data on his monitor. "I will see you in the morning, Ensign." 

Hoshi didn't bother correcting him, although the name felt strange. "Good night," she said. He gave no indication of having heard her. 

She smiled and left Sickbay in search of her daughter and T'Pol. 

****  
**Chapter 9**

Late that evening, Hoshi stood in the shower, letting the water run over her. She'd missed this part of civilization—the ease of turning on a faucet and standing under hot water for as long as she liked. They'd had a shower back in the village—Trip had built one and surprised her with it on her fiftieth birthday. Unfortunately, it could only be used in the warm months, and only after one trekked down to its riverside location, built a fire, and waited for the storage tank to heat. After that, you had about fifteen minutes worth of hot water before the whole process had to be started again. Of the villagers, only she and Trip ever bothered to make the effort—and even they only did it occasionally. 

Her showers these days were lasting longer and longer. But Nita was asleep and Trip was still out, so there was no reason to hurry. She wasted another five minutes, washing her hair a second time, before finally climbing out. Moving slowly, she went through her rituals…rubbing lotions into her skin, brushing and drying her hair. Wrapping her old robe around her, she switched off the light so that it wouldn't disturb Nita, and walked out of the bathroom. 

Her quarters weren't dark as she expected. Candlelight glowed on a small table in the center of the room. The table was set elegantly. A purplish liquid, obviously not of Earth origin, bubbled in two wine glasses. The centerpiece of the table was a decadent, chocolaty dessert. 

"Whatta ya think?" a warm, rich voice asked from behind her. 

Hoshi smiled but didn't turn. 

"It's beautiful, Trip. But where's Nita?" 

"I sent her off with Malcolm. She's stayin' with him and Sabah tonight." 

Hoshi glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes wide. "Really? How did you manage that?" 

He winked. "Charm, darlin'." At her laugh, he confessed. "Plus some begging." 

He stepped up and folded his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. "I thought we could spend the rest of the night with just the two of us; we've got a lot to talk about." 

Hoshi smiled at the tickling sensation his breath and lips made against her neck. "This is so bizarre—the two of us, on Enterprise." 

"Yeah, but it feels right, too," Trip said gently. 

Hoshi raised her head, catching his eye, and nodded. She allowed him to lead her to the table. 

(Author's note: An extended version of this love scene is available on my site, but I was afraid it bumped things into an 'R' rating).

****  
**Chapter 10**

"I think they'll stay." Jon swung his chair around to face T'Pol. She sat in a nearby chair, below the sketches of former Enterprises that were displayed on the wall of his ready room. 

She looked up from the data PADD in her lap. She did not seem surprised by his sudden switch in topic. "Should I assume we are finished with the crew roster?" 

Jon ignored the statement. "Trip and Hoshi. What do you think?" 

"I think they will inform you when they have made their decision. They have many aspects to consider." 

"You don't think they should stay," Jon realized. After all this time, the woman could still frustrate him. 

"A starship is hardly an appropriate place for a child. There is no school…" 

"Hoshi's always taken care of that." Jon stood up and went to the window, turning back to face her. He rubbed his palm absently against the leg of his uniform. 

"…there are no other children. Children require interaction with their peers. And the crew of Enterprise is frequently in danger. A child should not be exposed to such dangers." 

"Children are exposed to danger every day on Earth, too." He knew this was a pointless dispute, but he still hadn't managed to break his inclination to argue with her. "In fact, lots of children are raised in space now. Look at Travis. He turned out pretty well." 

T'Pol raised a brow. "This discussion is meaningless. Commander Tucker and Ensign Sato will make the decision." 

Jon sighed. Walking back to his chair, he slumped in it dejectedly. 

T'Pol's voice softened. "They are your friends. Until recently, they were lost to us. It is natural for you to experience regret that they cannot remain." 

Jon caught the "us" and smiled. Leaning forward, he placed his hand over hers. "You'd miss them too, huh?" 

Malcolm's voice came over the comm, interrupting them. "Captain, Subcommander. You're needed on the bridge." 

They both recognized the urgency. Striding out, T'Pol close behind, Jon entered the bridge, calling, "Report." 

He came abreast of Malcolm's station. The Lieutenant turned to look at him. "Sir…" 

Jon's eyes were already on the K'Sarm vessel looming on the viewscreen. He didn't have to glance around to sense the tension of his crew. Facts and rumor about the K'Sarm had been twined together to create a formidable enemy in their minds. They were frightened. 

So was he. But more than anything, he was angry. _Come_, he thought. _This time we're ready for you._

However, the plan that he and his senior staff had carefully designed was risky at best. So he went through the standard motions, even though his instincts told him that it was useless. "Hail them." 

"We've already tried. There was no response." 

As he knew there wouldn't be. Jon's mind worked fast over their options. He didn't waste time asking questions he knew the answer to—they couldn't outrun them, they couldn't talk to them… 

"Red alert." 

Reed nodded and sirens began to sound throughout the ship. 

Jon looked at the comm officer. "Have you sent out a distress message?" 

She nodded. "I can't be certain it got through, Captain." 

"They're charging weapons!" Reed's shout cut the conversation short. 

Enterprise shuddered under them. 

"Return fire!" Jon shouted, regaining his balance. Malcolm's torpedoes dissolved against the K'Sarm shields. 

T'Pol called out damage reports from her station, but Jon didn't bother trying to absorb the information. The ship rocked and he grabbed at his chair for balance, flinching at the small explosions going off around him. 

"Again, Mr. Reed!" 

Trip's agitated voice rang over the comm. "Cap'n, what the hell's goin' on?" 

"Hold on, Trip!" Jon glanced at Malcolm, shouting, "Fire!" Aware that it wouldn't matter. The K'Sarm shields barely shimmered and the enemy ship moved into position over Enterprise. Power flickered. 

"Travis?" 

"Helm is unresponsive, sir." 

Jon turned to the room. Everyone watched him, waiting. "Get to your stations," he said simply. "Everyone out." He waved Travis, the communications officer, and several other crewmen onto the lift. _They're so young. What makes you think this brilliant plan is going to work?_ Doubt whispered to him softly. 

_Because we're the good guys_, he answered firmly. _We're going to walk away from this._

He believed it, too. 

Behind him, he heard Malcolm give the command for the crew to take their battle positions. Jon looked back at him. Meeting the Captain's eyes, Malcolm leaned forward, speaking into the comm again. "You all know what to do. Good luck." 

The armory officer stood. Besides the two of them, only T'Pol remained. As one, they all strode directly to the lift. Jon said a quick prayer of thanks that it was still working. 

On the lift, Malcolm flipped out his communicator and gave Trip instructions to meet him in Sickbay. Jon caught his eye and nodded his approval. He was not surprised when Malcolm didn't stop the lift on E Deck, choosing instead to ride to F Deck with them. 

The doors opened and Jon and T'Pol shot out. 

Sabah ran towards them, tossing both of them a weapon. She kept moving until she was at the lift, where Malcolm stood holding the door open. She gave her husband a phase rifle and a quick, hard kiss. Neither spoke, but when she stepped back, Malcolm caught her with a hand on her neck and pulled her forward again. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. Jon turned away from the looks on their faces. 

His eyes met T'Pol's silent watch. A second later, Sabah was at his side, leading them both on to the Armory. 

**** 

Hoshi strolled into Engineering, moving in front of the warp core while doing a full 360 and scanning the area. She spotted them on the upper walkway and sighed from relief and frustration. 

"There you are!" she yelled up. 

Trip spun around, a smiling Nita draped over him piggyback style. "Hey you," he called down, smiling intimately. 

Hoshi flushed and grinned, thinking of the night before. "I just got a frantic call from Phlox. Apparently he lost our daughter." She gave Nita a stern look. "I told him not to worry; I had an idea of where to find her." 

Trip rolled his eyes, smiling. "She showed up here about 15 minutes ago. I was gonna run her back to Sickbay in a sec." 

"Well, I'm here now. I can take her." 

"I want to stay here," Nita said. She was clearly working up to one of her best whines. Trip knelt down quickly, setting her on her feet. Frowning, he said something to her quietly. Nita's face was mutinous, but she didn't offer further argument. 

A crewman approached Trip hesitantly. "Sir…" 

Trip stood up, turning to the young man. "We'll be down in a second," he called to Hoshi. She nodded, smiling. 

"Hoshi!" someone said, causing Hoshi to turn. Ensign O'Neill. Hoshi often used to eat with her…a lifetime ago. 

"Allison!" Hoshi said. She hugged the dark-haired woman happily. "How are you?" 

"Fine," Allison responded. "It's so good to see you! I knew you were back, of course…I can't believe this is the first time I'm running into you." 

Hoshi smiled remorsefully. She'd been purposely ducking the crew for the most part…refusing to let Travis throw them the party he wanted to, eating their meals with the Captain or during off hours. Using Nita as an excuse to avoid people. Something in her wouldn't let her put down roots again, not yet. 

Determined to do better, she launched herself into the conversation. "I know, I'm sorry, Allison. I'm glad to see you…" 

She asked carefully after Allison's family and her work. The longer they chatted, the more relaxed Hoshi felt. Another small knot of worry loosening in her mind. Finally, Allison excused herself to return to her duties. Hoshi remembered Phlox was still waiting for word. 

She turned back again, looking up to Trip and Nita. Trip was engrossed in a conversation with the Ensign, their heads bent together over a data PADD. Clearly bored, Nita had climbed up on the railing to watch the flurry of activity under her. The sight of her leaning out over the top rail made Hoshi's stomach twinge. It wasn't an enormous height, but enough to do real damage to such a little person. 

"Nita! Get down from there," she called up. 

Nita was entranced by the face of the glowing warp core. She didn't appear to notice her mother's voice. _She's got her father's optional obliviousness_, Hoshi thought, noting with mild irritation that Trip hadn't heard her either, nor had he noticed Nita's precarious perch. 

The sudden, horrible wailing of Malcolm's sirens got Nita's attention. Her frightened eyes swung down to her mother. _No wonder she's afraid_, Hoshi thought. Malcolm had managed to find a better sound than his original choice, but it was still terrible. 

Eager to comfort, Hoshi took one step forward—and the floor moved with a violent heave, an audible shudder crashing through the room. She barely kept her balance, but she didn't take her eyes from Nita. She watched helplessly, silently, as the tiny figure plunged headfirst off the rail and towards the floor of Engineering. 

*****  
**Chapter 11**

Trip answered the young man's questions good-naturedly, privately torn between exasperation and satisfaction. The burden of responsibility for the staff was already slowly shifting from Hess to himself. It was comforting to know that he had been missed by these people. It was also frustrating to see that, although a brilliant engineer, Hess still hadn't learned the people skills necessary to be a successful commanding officer. She'd simply been thrust into it too soon, without the experience she needed to adapt. His fault, for leaving. 

Still, it irked him that his first baby, the NX-01, had been left in the hands of somebody who wasn't ready to take care of her properly, in the way that she deserved. 

As that thought hit him, so did the sirens and then the first shockwave. The Ensign's eyes met his, wide with surprise and fear, as they both staggered. Trip didn't have time to return the look. He heard nothing besides the crash of the ship and sirens, but instinct had him turning and diving anyway. Even as his mind registered the yellow blur of his daughter's dress, his hand was snatching and closing on an ankle. His arm jerked with her full weight. She was limp as a rag doll while he hauled her backwards and fell back against the wall, his baby girl crushed to his chest. 

"Nita! Nita, are you ok, baby?" His hands checked her all over, looking for injury. His heart pounded—he barely noticed as the ship lurched again, sparks and smoke flying. He grasped her face with one hand and found her cheeks covered with tears. 

She opened her eyes and wailed, "You hurt my leg!" 

The accusation in her face made him laugh. He was already moving for the stairs, his mind racing ahead to the next danger as he answered. "I know, baby. I'm sorry." 

Enterprise jolted again. He practically jumped from the top of the stairs, rushing straight to Hoshi. She was crying, too, and she grabbed Nita from him. Her eyes met Trip's—she was afraid. 

So was he. An unfamiliar sensation…in the past, when his ship was taking a beating, all he'd felt was anger. He shoved the fear forcibly into the back of his mind. Hess wasn't in Engineering and he didn't have time to wait for her to arrive. 

"Marcusak, get that fire out! Jamison, how we doin'?" He left his family to hurry up beside Jamison. She was hovering before the Warp Core. 

"Warp's offline, sir. We've got a hull breach on Deck F…a storage bay," she added, and he breathed again. He held up one hand to halt her voice and hit the comm. 

"Cap'n, what the hell's goin' on?" he demanded. _Déjà vu._

"Hold on, Trip." He heard Jon shout, "Fire!" 

The chaos in Engineering raged around him, but it was a controlled chaos. These people knew their jobs. 

The ship jerked again. The power flickered. Jamison turned to him, her face stretched with terror. _Real_ terror. "Sir, we've lost control of all systems. Including impulse." 

Trip wasn't sure if he heard or imagined the sound of clamps locking onto the hull and the drills that followed. But all motion in Engineering stopped, so perhaps it wasn't in his head. He glanced at Jamison; tears were rolling silently down her face as she worked, uselessly, at trying to regain their systems. 

He turned and faced his family. Hoshi was pressed into a wall, trying to stay out of the way, watching him. She held Nita tight to her, one hand buried in the little girl's hair. 

Black eyes stood stark against her colorless skin. As Trip stared into that face, his lifeline, Malcolm's voice came over the comm. "This is Lieutenant Reed. Enterprise is being boarded by the K'Sarm. All hands report to battlestations, defensive operation Theta A." He paused and when he spoke again, his voice was warmer but no less determined. "You all know what to do. Good luck." 

The room sprang to life. 

Hoshi didn't move. She watched Trip, waiting to take her cue from him. 

God, he wished he knew what to do. 

His personal communicator beeped. Trip pulled it from his pocket and flipped it open. "Tucker," he shouted over the din. He took his gaze from Hoshi long enough to see that someone had opened a weapons locker, newly housed in Engineering, and was distributing phasers. 

"Trip," Malcolm said. "Find Hoshi and Nita. Meet me in Sickbay." 

"Understood," Trip answered, not bothering to explain that he was looking at Hoshi and Nita. Having a goal lit a fire under him—he was at Hoshi's side in half a second. "We have to get to Sickbay," he told her. She nodded; she was calm again. Steering her with one hand, he paused long enough to collect weapons for them both. Hoshi accepted hers, balancing it with holding Nita. 

Without hesitation he led them to an access tube that led directly to the deck below them, Deck E, where Sickbay was located. Trip took Nita from Hoshi and descended the ladder first. _Hurry, hurry, hurry_, was a mantra in his mind. 

He found the access door to E and twisted it open. Looking around carefully, he eased himself out into the corridor, keeping Nita behind the protection of the door until he was sure. No sign of intruders on this deck yet. They'd be coming through A Deck first. He allowed himself one flash of fear for the people on the bridge, and then smothered it. Hoshi was climbing out behind him and they rushed the few meters to Sickbay, hurtling through the doors. 

Doctor Phlox was crouched calmly behind the relative safety of a biobed, a phase pistol trained on them. Upon recognizing them, he stood and lowered the weapon. None of them spoke. 

Malcolm ran headlong into the room. He barely slowed as he plucked Nita from the arms of a startled Trip and shoved her at Phlox. "Doctor," he said, the single word an order. 

Phlox turned and picked up a black packet from a counter. He silently handed it to Malcolm, accepting the little girl in exchange. 

Nita hadn't made a sound since her complaint about her leg, but now she whimpered. Trip and Hoshi stepped towards her simultaneously. Trip trusted these men, but this was his _daughter_. It seemed as if he and Hoshi were the only ones that didn't know what was happening, and he was ready to be in on the secret. 

"Phlox will take her where she'll be safe," Malcolm stated. They looked at him, waiting. "Several months ago, when the K'Sarm attacks grew more frequent, I designed a chamber where our injured could be hidden in case we were boarded. It is soundproof, and they'll be virtually undetectable to scans." 

Malcolm and Phlox walked towards the back area of the room, Trip and Hoshi following. Trip hadn't been back there since he returned. Glancing about, he realized the area had been reconfigured from its original setup. "But…" 

"I've altered the ship's blueprints in all of our records. They won't be found," Malcolm said. "But only if they get in NOW." 

He punched a code into what appeared to be a comm, and a small panel slid open. A bark sounded from inside. "Since Nita had left Porthos in my care, I took the liberty of placing him inside," Phlox said. "I thought he might provide some comfort for her." 

Hoshi nodded her approval, trying, and failing, to smile at him. Phlox started to climb into the chamber, taking a crying Nita with him. She held out a little hand. Phlox paused when Trip caught it. 

"I love you, baby girl," Trip said. "You be brave. We'll be right back for ya, ok?" 

He turned to Hoshi. "You get in there, too." 

She stepped purposely forward, taking Nita from Phlox. Trip's stomach unwound slightly; he'd expected an argument. 

She squeezed the little girl tightly. "Ar mushiki, Nita," she whispered. _We love you._ And she handed the sobbing girl back to the doctor. Turning back to Trip and Malcolm, she raised her phase pistol and adjusted the setting to kill. 

"Hoshi." Trip summoned anger, instead of fear. He couldn't face the fear. "Get your ass in that room." 

"No." She glanced over her shoulder at the doctor, who was now completely inside. Phlox looked back at her. 

"She will be taken care of, Hoshi." With those parting words, Phlox pushed a button and sealed himself and Nita inside. 

"You get in there, Hoshi." Trip was hoarse, shouting at her while the fear tried to pound its way loose again. "Goddammit, do it right now." 

Hoshi leaned forward, her face inches from his. The near-hysterics he'd seen in her face in Engineering were gone. "I. WILL. NOT," she hissed. "I will not sit in there, waiting for them to come for us. I WILL NOT do nothing while I wait to find out that you're dead." 

Frantic, Trip grabbed her arm and shoved her towards the room. She dug in her heels and pushed back with all of her strength. 

"We don't have time for this." Hands slammed into both of them, forcing them apart. Malcolm was already walking past them as he said tersely, "We need all of the hands we can get. If we don't stop them, it won't matter how well I've hidden that room. Everyone on this ship is going to die." 

The last words were faint, as he was already out of sight. Hoshi rushed past Trip before he could grab her again. He followed immediately. 

"Malcolm, where're you going?" he shouted after them. 

Malcolm paused. "To the Mess. My team will be waiting for me, as per their instructions. The two of you just became part of that team." 

"WAIT." Trip had reached his limit. He was just mad now. "You stop for one minute, Lieutenant, and tell us what's happening. WHAT is the plan? Where's the Cap'n?" 

"Walk and talk," Malcolm said, and led them into the corridor. "We've had this contingency plan in place for nearly a year. We knew we couldn't defeat them in a ship-to-ship battle, if it ever came down to it. Not before we've deciphered their technology. Our only chance is to take them out after they've boarded, after the ships are locked together. We assigned everyone to teams, all with certain tasks. Defensive teams to protect Engineering. And the armory." 

"The bridge?" Hoshi asked breathlessly. They were all jogging. 

"The bridge has been abandoned. The K'Sarm will come there first; they're likely already there. As long as we maintain a team in Engineering, it won't matter." 

"What difference does that make as long as they control our systems from their ship?" Trip demanded. 

Malcolm tossed a look back at them. "The Captain is leading an offensive team to eliminate the K'Sarm onboard. Along with T'Pol and Sabah." 

They reached the Mess Hall. Inside, approximately 10 people waited, all with weapons drawn and pointed at the doors. Travis was at the forefront; a wave from him had everyone lowering their weapons. 

Malcolm nodded to him. "This group," he said to Trip and Hoshi, "will make the difference. We're going to board the K'Sarm ship—and take back Enterprise." 

***** 

**Part II **

**Chapter 12**

_Victory won't come to me unless I go to it._  
Marianne Moore 

_The race is not [always] to the swift, nor the battle to the strong._  
Ecclesiastes 9:11 

~~~~~ 

The entry point was ragged, a startling tear in the perfect hull of Enterprise. But the access tube into the K'Sarm ship seemed solid, locked into the Enterprise's skin with a finality that scared Hoshi as she crawled through it. She was fourth in a line of twelve people. 

Above her, Malcolm reached the hatch and paused, causing all of them to stop. Trip, and then Travis, waited impatiently while Malcolm found the controls and gingerly opened the door a fraction of an inch. Most of them were wearing small bags strapped across their chests, containing extra ammunition and other tools. Malcolm dug into his. He carefully slid a minute tube through the opening and studied a small screen in the palm of his hand. After a moment, during which Hoshi held her breath, he said, "Clear" in a soft voice and shoved the hatch open. 

He and Trip were through it before she could blink, Travis moving fast behind them. A dark hand reached down and hauled her upward as she reached the top. Travis was showing little sign of injury today. 

Trip didn't turn to look at her, but she knew him—he had confirmed her safety from the corner of his eye even as he took in their surroundings. 

Hoshi did the same. She vaguely remembered the outside of a K'Sarm ship—back then, she'd had a general impression of hard metal and sharp edges. This room suited her memory, except that she'd expected it to be dark, and it was so well lit that it hurt her eyes. It was large—twice the length of Enterprise's Engineering room, but with low ceilings. The walls were alive with light, blinking consoles and screens identifying data that she couldn't imagine. Everything was gray and sharp-looking. Looking across the immense room, she could see many similar access hatches. 

There was no sign of the K'Sarm. 

"Where are they?" Trip whispered, reading her mind. His breath puffed out in a white cloud. He stood and Hoshi noticed the ceiling was barely a meter above his head. 

"On board Enterprise. Or up there," Travis answered in a grim voice, gesturing towards the ceiling. "They won't be expecting a counterattack. It's never happened to them before." 

As they spoke, the rest of their team, all security and engineering personnel, joined them. Malcolm glanced around. "You've all been briefed on the layout of the ship. Most of you," he conceded, glancing at Trip and Hoshi. "Let's go." 

_Focus_, Hoshi told herself. _Focus. Don't think about Nita. Or about Trip and everything you stand to loose…FOCUS._

Her skin was goosepimpling; the tip of her nose was icy. Still, she imagined doing this in EV suits and could only be relieved that the K'Sarm breathed an oxygen-based atmosphere. 

She rose from a crouch and stood beside Travis. The effort surprised her; she gasped a little. Travis looked at her. "The hypo should take effect soon," he said. 

Malcolm and Travis had explained the differences in the K'Sarm environment—in addition to lower temperatures, gravity was a small percentage heavier. While living among the alien race, Malcolm and Travis had taken regular doses of a stimulant mixture designed by Phlox. 

The same mixture was in the packet Phlox had handed to Malcolm in Sickbay—a dose for each member of the team. That, plus a heavier concentration of oxygen in the air, would work to combat effects of the gravity and temperature. To extend the time it would last, they had waited to inject themselves until just before they climbed through the ships. 

Hoshi nodded at Travis. She was already feeling better—less aware of the cold. Out of nervous habit, she checked her phaser again. The weapon felt awkward in her hands still, but she was growing accustomed to it. Remembering. _Like riding a bike_, she thought, smiling ironically. 

Travis noticed her expression and gave her a strange look. They began to move through the room, walking in twos. Malcolm and Trip took the lead. 

"What exactly is the plan again?" she asked Travis. 

They were approaching a ladder on the wall. Malcolm and Trip took up positions on either side. Malcolm flipped out a scanner and studied it carefully. He looked up at Trip and nodded. Trip scaled the ladder quickly. Pushing a button, Trip opened another hatch, poked his head out, and climbed up. 

Malcolm repeated his actions. His hand appeared from above, gesturing for the rest of the team to follow. 

The corridor was wide enough to accommodate a crew thrice the size of Enterprise's crew, but with the same low ceilings. Again, everything was sharp angles and grayness and bright light. 

Once they were moving again, Travis finally turned to her. "We plan to avoid detection. Take control of the ship." 

"Is that all?" Trip said. She hadn't realized he was listening to them. 

Hoshi watched Travis. Her stomach was twisted; it was a phenomenal act of willpower that she hadn't vomited yet. Even in the chill air, sweat stood out all over her body. But she kept her face still. "How do we plan to do that?" she asked. 

"We're going to take over Engineering and disable their systems. Get in, get out, and get Enterprise out of here before they can recover. By then, the Captain should have the K'Sarm onboard Enterprise wiped out." 

"Great," she muttered, and was rewarded with a Travis smile. 

Ahead of them, Malcolm and Trip reached a turn in the corridor. It was impossible to see what was ahead. Malcolm carefully leaned out to look. His body relaxed and so did Hoshi's, even before he waved everyone on. Trip stepped out to follow him. 

Hoshi looked around at the glimmering walls. Electronic boards ran the length of the corridor; apparently this entire ship was wired with an elaborate computer system. 

"Why haven't we been detected yet?" she murmured to Travis. 

"Malcolm figured out how to block their internal sensors when we were living onboard one of their ships," Travis said. "Unless they've reconfigured their entire system, there'll be no way to detect us until it's too late." 

_Sound awfully sure of yourself_, Hoshi thought. 

Which is why she wasn't completely surprised when the shots resonated behind her. 

*****  
At the sound of the first shot, Malcolm ducked into a crouch and slammed against the wall, trying to be a hard target. The sharp, ridged walls bit into his back, causing him to wince. He raised his weapon at the same time, but there was no way for him to return fire without hitting Enterprise crewmembers. Across from him, he saw Trip leap forward to put himself between Hoshi and the firefight. 

It was over in seconds—a volley of shots, flashing in the bright hall. His people had killed the three K'Sarm that had stumbled upon them. Malcolm quickly inspected the K'Sarm bodies, making certain they were dead. He disliked looking at them; even after wearing the bubbles of skin on his own face and hands, he found their appearance nauseating. Perhaps it was just because he hated them so very, very much. 

Reassured, he turned back to his own people. Two of his men had minor wounds. And one of his people was dead. She lay in a face forward slump against the wall, eyes open to stare up at them from an awkward angle. Her dark hair was still neatly tucked into its braid. Ensign Maria Ticarro. 

_And then there were eleven._ The thought popped into his head before he could squash it. 

"We need to get moving double-time after that racket." He looked at Travis, who tore his gaze from Ticarro's face. "And we'll have to get rid of these." Malcolm indicated the four bodies. Travis flinched, but nodded his agreement. 

Malcolm turned around. Hoshi was staring blankly at the Ensign's body, eyes filling with tears. Trip stepped up beside her and ran a light hand over her hair, whispering softly in her ear. She turned her face into his shoulder for only a millisecond. She raised her eyes to Trip's, nodded quickly, and the two of them faced Malcolm. 

He was already grabbing Ticarro's body under her shoulders. His men—Hoshi was now the only female on their team—quickly picked up the K'Sarm bodies. Most K'Sarm were about Malcolm's size—Travis had barely fit in with his height—but their bulky, dark clothing and weaponry made them heavy. 

Trip caught Ticarro's feet. Travis stepped into the lead. "This way." He went a few meters and opened a door. "This should be a cargo bay…" 

He was right, as Malcolm knew he would be. They entered carefully and deposited the bodies just inside the door, hidden behind a few storage containers. Malcolm confiscated one of their rifles, attaching his own phase pistol to his belt. He handed another one to Trip. 

He didn't permit himself or anyone else to mourn Ticarro. That would come later. "Come on, then." 

He led the group back into the corridor. There was no sign that they'd been detected, but he still felt completely exposed as they hurried around the next two bends in the corridor. 

He found what he sought—a wide door, formidably secured. The others waited impatiently while he removed a tiny electronic device from his pocket and hooked it into the access panel. He toyed, frustration building, for almost two precious minutes. Time was slipping away from him, faster than he'd expected. 

"Malcolm…" Trip said. 

"Just a few more seconds," he muttered, as much to himself as Trip. He heard Trip exhale in frustration, but just then the device beeped and the doors slid open. While he extracted the device, Trip led the team inside. 

Sliding the miniscule device—his own design—into his pocket, Malcolm moved up with the rest. They had stopped dead. He actually smiled with dark humor when Trip breathed, "Holy…" 

*****  
**Chapter 13**

Trip gawked around him, open-mouthed, while his eyes slowly adjusted to the change in lighting. His engineer's instincts told him they were standing in the core of the ship. Although the dimness made it hard to be certain, he suspected the ceiling of this room reached the top deck of this ship—which had to be nearly twenty decks high. The entire room hummed and above him stretched an elaborate network of catwalks, beginning with a ramp just a few meters ahead of him and extending as far upward as he could see. 

But the most interesting part, to his mind, was the appearance of the walls. They resembled a high-tech honeycomb, metal crisscrossing over a translucent material. The little amount of light in the chamber was emitted from the walls in a purplish glow. 

Again, there were no K'Sarm in sight. 

Malcolm appeared on his left; Hoshi was already standing on his right. "This is where they store it," Malcolm said. "The triglobulin. Along with a few other valuable fluids." 

"Oh my God," Hoshi said. "There's so much…" 

"Yes, they harvest without pause," Malcolm said flatly. He looked at Trip. "It's a bit of a hike, and there's little cover if we are discovered. But the K'Sarm rarely need to come into this chamber…unless they're storing triglobulin." 

Trip thought of where they were planning to find their next load. "Guess the Cap'n'll have something to say about that, huh?" 

No one answered. 

Trip swallowed, and forced his mind back to their task. "Which way?" 

Malcolm pointed up. "That way." 

He started walking towards the first ramp, and Trip followed, flanked by the rest of the team. They started to climb. He tried to breathe through his mouth; despite the cold, this room was rank with an unidentifiable smell. 

An image of Nita, huddled and crying in Phlox's arms, danced into his mind. For comfort, he looked over his shoulder at Hoshi. She was eyeing the walls with distrust, as if they were to blame for this situation. The purple glow in the room gave her an odd look, foreign to him. His chest constricted. 

She turned back, caught him looking, and gave him a tiny smile. She was his Hoshi again. Trip smiled back and faced forward. 

They were moving fast, and had gotten close to halfway up. Trip had never particularly feared heights, but he made a point not to glance over the sides. There were slim rails about waist high along the sides of the walkways. They didn't make for much of a barrier between them and the growing space down to the floor. He wondered how Jon was doing. _Concentrate_, he told himself. The hypo should have long since taken affect, but he still felt as if his feet were dragging while they climbed. A pale fog of breath followed them all, a tacit reminder of their exertion. 

Suddenly impatient to end this, Trip caught up with Malcolm. They came to the crest of a ramp. Like the others, there was a small landing before a set of doors and then the walk jutted back in the other direction. They'd passed a half-dozen or so landings. Only this time, as they reached the top, the door slid open. Standing on the other side were several very surprised K'Sarm. 

The two groups froze for maybe a second. The K'Sarm went for their weapons—the Enterprise crew was already holding theirs. 

Trip aimed for the face of one of them and fired. At the same time, he stepped backwards, trying to shield Hoshi with his body. As he expected, she moved away from him, firing her own weapon. 

The first row of K'Sarm, three of them, went down, felled by Trip and Malcolm's shots. Maybe four more returned fire, and the Enterprise crew dived for cover. There wasn't any, so they had to be content with hunching down and trying to make themselves as small as possible. Trip heard one of the Enterprise crewmen cry out, but he didn't turn. He could barely see with the flashes of phaser fire. The K'Sarm that they didn't hit lunged behind the doorway, popping out to shoot at them. 

One of them, skin gleaming, leaned out, drew aim on Malcolm and fired. The Lieutenant saw his intent half a second before and jumped out of the way. He hit the ground on the opposite side of the walk. And rolled right over the edge. 

"Malcolm!" Trip yelled. He shot the K'Sarm responsible and advanced, Travis and the other crewmen behind him. Hitting the doorway at a dead run, Trip leaped through with Travis at his side. Trip's left shoulder burned like fire as one of the shots glanced off of him, but he had momentum on his side. Covered by their crewmen, he and Travis hit the opposite wall of the corridor, and turned, shooting wildly. 

In seconds, the few remaining K'Sarm, pinned in the crossfire, were dead. 

Trip didn't stop for a body count. He scrambled to his feet and dashed back through the door. In the dim purple light, he saw Hoshi's body sprawled a few meters away. 

*****  
Shots whistling around her, Hoshi watched Malcolm disappear over the side, slipping through the railings. She heard Trip shout his name, and felt the others rush past her. 

Her eyes were on the empty spot where Malcolm had been a split-second before. Dodging a few random shots, she ran over and looked over the side, disbelieving. 

Her gaze locked with startled blue eyes. Malcolm was clinging by one hand to the railing, stubbornly holding onto his phaser with the other. His feet dangled out over empty violet air. 

"Malcolm!" Hoshi dropped onto her stomach and held out her hand. "Take my hand." 

"Can't." 

"For the love of…give me the weapon then," Hoshi barked. She grasped his wrist where he was holding onto the railing. 

Malcolm twisted, throwing up his arm enough for her to catch the phaser. She tossed it over her shoulder without a second glance and held out her hand. He swung his hand up and caught her arm. Hoshi pulled, Malcolm assisting her with his own grip on the rail. 

Nothing happened. Malcolm's weight, increased by the gravity, was too much for her. Despite having her shoulder braced against a post of the rail, she felt her body slip. Every muscle in her upper body was taut; each one protested individually. The floor of the walkway was grooved to provide traction; it hurt her flesh as she rubbed across it. She cried out, a deep, guttural grunt. Malcolm's hand released hers…only her grip was keeping them locked. 

"Let go, Hoshi. I'm going to pull you over," Malcolm ordered. 

Hoshi whimpered. 

"Nice try, Malcolm," said a warm voice near her ear. An arm shot past her, grabbing Malcolm's wrist and hauling him upward. She huffed with relief, doing her part to help take Malcolm's weight. 

Together, she and Trip pulled Malcolm up and over the rail. The three of them collapsed in a heap. 

"If ya think I'm lettin' you die now and dump this whole plan on me, you got another thing comin'," Trip gasped at Malcolm, and in that second Hoshi loved him more than she ever had. 

Trip stood, pulling her with him, and then reached down to give Malcolm a helping hand. "C'mon. Let's get this over with."  
***** 

**Chapter 14**

"We cannot let them reach Engineering!" 

Jon chanced a glance at the woman running beside him. "I know, T'Pol!" His voice was laced with frustration—mostly at their slow progress. But also at the knowledge that she was holding back to stay with him—without him slowing her down, she could easily have outpaced the K'Sarm that were hot on their heels. 

He looked up ahead and saw their destination— a 'T' in the corridor. _Finally_. The two of them skidded full throttle to the right and landed in a heap behind the security team that was lying in wait for the K'Sarm. Fortunately, the K'Sarm were both greedy and arrogant. Two teams so far had fallen victim to this tactic, unable to resist chasing two seemingly unarmed people. 

On cue, the K'Sarm group whipped around the corner. The team leader was greeted by Sabah's phase rifle, and the rest of her people dispensed with the remaining K'Sarm quickly. 

Jon sat up, disentangling himself from T'Pol. "That leaves three teams, plus the four K'Sarm on the bridge." He grinned at T'Pol. He was acutely uncomfortable with this 'kill or be killed' method but had decided to bury the feelings until later. Better guilt later than indecision now. "Ready to go again?" 

"Captain, I must again protest you using yourself as bait. It is simply too dangerous a risk for Enterprise's Captain." 

"Your protest is noted," Jon said. He touched her shoulder lightly. He knew her argument was valid, but he knew her well enough to realize that it was also based on her personal feelings. "It's worked out so far, right?" He turned to Sabah. "Where do we go next? Or are they already on their way here?" 

She was frowning down at an instrument in her hand, seemingly unaware of the dead K'Sarm piled at her feet. "Sir…they seem to have abandoned the idea of pursuing us. All three teams appear to be moving down to Deck D." 

_Engineering_. As fast as the thought could register, Jon's comm came alive. "Hess to Captain Archer!" 

"Go ahead." 

"Sir, we're under attack. We've sealed the doors, but they're cutting through. If they get in, I'm not sure how long we'll last." Her voice was edged with panic. 

"Stay calm, Lieutenant. Follow the defense plan we outlined…we'll be there as soon as possible." 

"Sir, I…" 

"We're coming, Hess," Jon said. "We're only one deck up from you." Aware that the rest of her team was probably listening, he added, "I have total confidence in your ability to last until we get there, Lieutenant. That's why you're in charge." 

Actually, she was in charge because Jon and Malcolm had assumed that the K'Sarm wouldn't get as far as D Deck, and therefore had assigned the best fighters to the Captain's team…but that wasn't exactly what she needed to hear. 

In a low, firm voice, she said, "Yes, sir." 

Jon cut the transmission and looked at Sabah and T'Pol. "Let's go." 

*****  
**Chapter 15**

"This is the deck where their Engineering room is located," Malcolm said quietly. 

They had quickly climbed two more stories, and were standing outside another door. Hoshi looked around at the group of them. All of the men looked edgy and tense, faces glowing purple. After pulling Malcolm up, they'd discovered that they had lost another crewman. He lay on his back in the center of the walk, a plasma burn across his chest. "Ensign Sauer," Malcolm had answered tightly when she'd asked. "Jim." 

With no other options, they had just left his body there on the catwalks. Hoping to conceal there presence a little while longer, they had paused long enough to drag the dead K'Sarm inside the chamber as well. 

Hoshi banished Jim's image from her mind, replacing it with thoughts of her daughter. For Nita, she would ignore the losses and think of what could still be saved. 

Her muscles were rigid with exertion and stress. As they stood still and tried to gather themselves for the next attack, her hands and feet were gradually growing numb. 

"How far?" Trip said. "An' how many of 'em?" His sleeve was torn and stained dark, but he had refused to let her examine the wound. 

"Just a few meters," Travis said. "Usually about twenty K'Sarm on duty." 

"Guards?" asked one of the crewmen, a young man with dark hair and light skin. Hoshi wished that she knew him better; it was odd that they might die together, and she couldn't remember his name. 

Malcolm shook his head. "No." He looked around at them. "I'm hoping we still have the element of surprise…although we've had a few too many run-ins to be sure of that. We're going to have to rush them. Travis and I will take the lead, as we're the most familiar with the layout. We'll open the door and throw in a stun grenade. Anyone left standing after that, shoot to kill." 

Without hesitation, the team moved into position. Malcolm and Travis went through first, Hoshi and Trip second, with the others following. 

Hoshi blinked against the blaring light, but kept going, focusing on Travis's back. The second the door snicked shut behind the last crewman, a group of K'Sarm stepped out before them. Hoshi heard a sound behind her, and glanced around to find a second group standing close behind them. They were outnumbered almost two to one. 

She knew she was probably the only one who understood one of them when he said, arrogantly, "Drop your weapons, and you will be spared." 

As she didn't believe him for a moment, she didn't bother translating for everyone else. Besides, before the K'Sarm had finished his sentence, Malcolm's shot hit him full in the chest, and the Lieutenant was ramming himself into the next one. 

The other crewman followed suit, shooting into the crowd of K'Sarm and lunging forward too fast for the enemy to get many shots off. Still, the crewman who had asked about guards dropped silently to his knees and fell face down. 

Hoshi barely noticed him as a K'Sarm loomed before her, inches from her face. Startled, she instinctively slammed her phaser across his face. He staggered back and she shot him, point blank range. The sound and scent of burning flesh sickened her, but she held her hand steady as she twisted, watching for attack. 

This team had been well trained in hand to hand combat—around her, the battle raged, but the K'Sarm were being overtaken, despite their advantages. Hoshi raised her phaser, intent on shooting a K'Sarm who was wrestling with Travis, when a hand wrapped around her wrist in an excruciating grip. As thick nails cut through her sleeve and into her skin, the phaser fell out of her hand. She kicked out, uselessly, as the K'Sarm pulled her against him, face to face, crushing her ribcage with his arms. His breath was foul against her face. She screamed once, but it died with her breath. Her heart throbbed and the intense light dimmed. 

Instantly, she was free. She fell hard against the ground, sucking in air even as she rolled to look back at her attacker. Trip was delivering forceful blows to the K'Sarm's face and body. The alien caught Trip around the throat and lifted him off of his feet, bashing him into the wall. Trip's face turned a mottled red as he tried to break free. 

A sleek K'Sarm rifle lay on the floor nearby. Hoshi crawled to it, reaching out her hand. Pain and shock burst in her head, and she fell back. She clung to consciousness, trying to focus. 

As the light came back to her, she squinted up, the side of her head burning. From a distance, she saw Travis come to Trip's aid, slamming into the back of the K'Sarm. They all went down in a tangle. Another K'Sarm dove into their midst. He and Trip came up fighting. 

Fuzzily, she looked around. A hot ache, mixed with anger, pounded the side of her head. The rifle had been kicked far down the hall…probably by the same foot that had connected with her ear. She lurched to her feet, fixed on retrieving it. 

The fighting was still going on around her, a roaring clamor that hardly distracted her. Hoshi ducked through the bedlam, trying to keep an eye on Trip's confrontation. 

Trip hit the alien again. Years of farming had left him strong; the K'Sarm went down. Trip turned towards her, checking as always. His face was harsh, red and streaked with sweat. Between them, the other combatants danced. He moved in her direction, and fell flat on his face when the K'Sarm caught his ankle and yanked. 

Hoshi squeezed past the fighting until she reached the rifle. As she leaned over to snatch it, an odd sound caught her attention. Turning her head, she saw an open area that could only be Engineering. K'Sarm were swarming all over it, shouting to each other. She looked quickly for the source of the sound. 

Two enormous bay doors were slowly closing off the entrance. 

"They're locking us out!" Hoshi shouted. Instinctively, she launched herself toward the doors. She made it two steps inside, the doors moving behind her, and froze. Some twenty K'Sarm looked back at her—and went for their weapons. 

A jarring force hit Hoshi, knocking her sideways. She landed in a tangle of limbs with another body. Trip. He had knocked her behind the relative safety of a wall of computer terminals. He didn't stop to check her, just fumbled at his waist. Hoshi heard the doors lock together as Trip produced a small object, leaned out, and threw it. He dove back on top of her, holding their heads down. There was a flash and a snapping sound, followed by a number of thuds. 

Hoshi raised her head and met Trip's eyes. "Stun grenade," he said softly. "Hold on." 

He leaned out carefully. Apparently, he found the room was clear, because he turned back to her and demanded, "What the hell were you doin', jumpin' in here by yourself?" 

Hoshi stared back at him in startled silence. Once she'd processed the sudden change in subject, she narrowed her eyes and snapped, "I couldn't let them lock us out." 

"Yeah, havin' a dead Hoshi on this side would've been a big help." 

Before she could retort, he stood up and walked towards the doors. "We gotta hurry up—I'm not real sure how long those stun grenades last on a K'Sarm." 

Hoshi followed him irritably. While he set to work trying to open the doors, she took in their surroundings. Except for one tall, glowing chamber, the room was about the height of the corridors, and maybe half the length of Enterprise's engineering room. Same color scheme. It was also littered with unconscious K'Sarm. 

She started to move among them. 

"What're you doin'?" Trip asked. 

"Picking up their weapons. If they wake up, I'd rather it not be with one of these beside them." She continued filling her arms. When she was finished, she took the whole pile and dumped them behind the computer terminals. Except for the two she kept for herself and Trip. She opened one of his pockets and hooked a pistol on his hip. He barely acknowledged it. While he worked, she went back to watching the K'Sarm. 

Trip's communicator beeped. He took it out of his pocket and silently handed it to her before returning to his work. 

"Sato." 

"Hoshi—are you both all right?" Malcolm's voice was laced with concern. 

"We're fine." 

His tone became efficient. "Good. Can Trip open the doors?" 

At which point, Trip swore and punched the wall three times. 

"I…don't think so." 

Trip held his hand out for the communicator, indicating that he would tell Hoshi and Malcolm at once. Accepting it, he met her eyes and said acerbically, "Sure, I can. Shouldn't take more'n an hour." 

Malcolm said, "We don't have an hour, Commander." 

"Yeah, Malcolm, I know." Trip sighed in frustration. "Hoshi and I'll just have to do this ourselves. We'll find another way out." 

The nausea threatened Hoshi's composure again—she choked it back. 

"Trip, we had planned for an escape from inside that room," Malcolm replied quickly. "After you've released Enterprise, you'll need to find an access tube…it should be in the back of the room…there'll be a small door marked in red. It leads down to the garbage incinerator on the bottom deck. Exit on the second lowest deck and we'll meet you there." 

The comm broke off with a crackle. Outside, Hoshi heard phaser fire. Before they could react Malcolm's voice was back, shouting now. "We've got company! We'll try to hold them off for as long as possible…" It went dead. 

Hoshi looked at Trip. She winced as she noticed the bruises that were forming on his face, but knew he wouldn't welcome any sympathy. He was already scanning the room. The noise outside was faint, but constant. They would worry when it stopped. "C'mon, babe. Let's get this over with. You translate, I'll do the rest." 

"Don't call me 'babe'," Hoshi said automatically. 

They both smiled faintly as they set to work. 

*****   
**Chapter 16**

The air smelled of electricity and scorched flesh—a result of their ongoing battle. Malcolm and his remaining six people found refuge in the deeply recessed alcove in front of the Engineering room. It seemed like most of the ship's crew was descending upon them. Fortunately the K'Sarm had little cover if they tried to approach. But as protected as the Enterprise crew was, Malcolm knew it was only a matter of time before they were overcome by sheer numbers. Already, most of them were wounded in varying degrees of severity. His shoulder, wrenched by his near fall, ached brutally. 

He glanced at Travis. They were all soaked with sweat, but the Ensign's uniform clung to him. He was wheezing. He was likely running on adrenaline only at this point. 

Malcolm wasn't sure if he himself was doing much better. 

"We can't keep this up!" he shouted. 

Travis dropped back long enough to reload his phaser. "What do you suggest?!" 

As the Ensign stepped back into position, Malcolm slid behind him. Facing the door, he raised the K'Sarm rifle he was using and fired. Aiming carefully, he sealed the immense door shut. For good measure, he also blew out the keypad beside it. 

"I suggest we get out of here," he yelled. "We'll have to go the way we came." 

"We can't go out there!" one of the other men returned. "It's suicide. We won't get five meters." 

"It's only fifteen to the access doors. If you can get inside, I doubt anyone is guarding the chamber—they'll concentrate their people on regaining Engineering and attacking Enterprise. Two of us will stay behind to provide cover fire for the others. Once you're inside, head straight for the access tunnel and get back to the ship." 

He looked among them. Most still had their attention on the enemy. "I'm staying. But I can't cover both sides myself…" 

"I'm staying," Travis said. 

Malcolm shook his head. "No, Ensign. You're exhausted." 

"All the more reason," Travis rasped. "Oded and Mike are going to need help. With two mostly healthy guys on either side, they should have no problem." Malcolm hesitated. "They'll have a better chance without me, Malcolm." 

He wanted to say no, but he had to be realistic. With a nod, Malcolm moved to one side of the doorway—the one closest to the chamber entrance. He was still the best shot. Noting that Travis was in place, he said, "Once you're inside, seal the door." 

"No argument," he snapped at their reluctant expressions. "Ready?" 

The men picked up the two injured. With their arms wrapped around their shoulders, the healthy crewmen nodded. 

Malcolm leaned out and drew a bead on the first K'Sarm he saw. He could hear Travis doing the same. Firing a number of succinct shots, he took out a row of their enemy. The K'Sarm scrambled for cover. 

"Go!" 

The men ran, the injured crewmen providing as much help as they could. They closed five meters. 

Malcolm fired around them. The K'Sarm squeezed off a few shots, but under Malcolm's barrage they mostly remained ducked down. 

Ten meters. The K'Sarm were getting braver. One shot grazed the hip of a crewman. He cried out, but kept moving. _God_, Malcolm thought, _why are they going so damn slowly?_

Twelve meters. _MOVE YOUR BLEEDING..._

They were there. The first man hit the door and it shot open. They hurtled through, out of Malcolm's sight. Despite his cover fire, a few K'Sarm pursued them. Apparently the crewmen had followed his orders; the K'Sarm were unable to open the door. Of course, they didn't try very hard, Malcolm noted. Recovering Engineering was apparently a greater priority. No doubt they assumed the rest would be easily caught once that was accomplished. 

"They made it!" Malcolm shouted to Travis. The Ensign, tucked behind cover of the wall temporarily, grinned faintly. 

"How do you think Trip and Hoshi are doing?" Travis asked. He fired a few more rounds to keep the K'Sarm at bay. 

"Better than us, I wager," Malcolm said. 

Travis's grin widened. "I don't know, Lieutenant. We're doing all right." 

He lowered his weapon and blasted into the ground between them. The entry-way where they were taking refuge was marked with narrow, slitted vents in the floor. Looking down, Malcolm saw that Travis had opened a vent. It appeared to be wide enough to accommodate them. The armory officer glanced back at Travis. 

"Trust me," Travis said. He hopped down into the opening until he was standing inside, waist-deep. He gestured for Malcolm to follow and disappeared. After spinning around and firing a few warning shots, Malcolm climbed nimbly into the opening. With some difficulty, he managed to wiggle around enough get his entire body inside. Travis crouched nearby on his hands and knees. 

"Go," Malcolm said, pointing in a direction. Travis started to crawl. Digging into his bag, Malcolm produced several charges. They wouldn't hold the K'Sarm forever, but the first that tried to follow would have a nasty surprise. Malcolm set them quickly and went after Travis. 

***** 

"Are you sure?" 

Hoshi looked at Trip steadily. "I'm sure." 

Trip punched a few buttons and the glowing chamber behind them stopped glowing, its hum silenced. "That's their warp drive then." He looked at Hoshi. "Only one thing left to do." 

"Detach the clamps and access tubes," she said. She knew the realities of the situation as well as he did—they would need to find another way back. 

"Where?" Trip asked simply. 

Hoshi pointed to the correct screen. Translating quickly, she told him what he needed to know. 

Trip's hands sped through the entries. He hesitated over the last button, watching her face. She was putting up a brave front, but he could see what this final separation from Enterprise was going to do to her. "Malcolm won't let us down, Hoshi. If he says he knows a way out, he does." 

"Assuming he gets there," Hoshi said quietly, almost to herself. The shooting outside had stopped several minutes before. There was no way to know if Malcolm had escaped. 

"If he doesn't, we'll find our own way," Trip said. He was mildly pleased by how confident he sounded. He meant it, too. He wasn't going to let his family down. 

Hoshi didn't answer, just looked back at him—a lifetime of emotions playing across her face. 

"Ready?" he asked. 

"I…" A strange expression blinked across her face, and she dropped at his feet. 

Dumbfounded, Trip looked down. He found a K'Sarm, only partially awake, sprawled beside Hoshi. The alien's hand was still wrapped around the tool he had shoved sideways through the fleshy part of Hoshi's calf. 

"Son of a…" Trip's foot connected with the K'Sarm's face, causing the alien to roll several feet away. 

At the same time, he took in the rest of the room with his peripheral vision. The K'Sarm were beginning to stir. In one movement, Trip pushed the release button and dropped down beside Hoshi. 

She was already pushing herself up. Tears ran down her face, and her breath escaped in little sobs. "I'm ok," she insisted when her eyes met his. Trip's gaze went to her leg. The tool, resembling a screwdriver with a serrated blade, was still wedged solidly through her calf, visible on either side. He was amazed at her clarity, given the pain she must be in. 

He also knew he couldn't remove the tool here—the blood loss once it came out would increase greatly. She needed to be sitting in Sickbay when that happened. 

The ship vibrated as the mechanical processes for extracting the access tubes from Enterprise kicked in. 

"Time to go, darlin'," Trip said, and Hoshi nodded. He lifted her and wrapped an arm around her waist as she put her weight onto her healthy left leg. With her arm around his shoulders, he half led, half carried her to the back of the room. 

While he was disabling the K'Sarm systems, he had identified the red door Malcolm described. It was a narrow, scarlet square at waist height. Trip used one hand to open it, conscious of Hoshi's breathy gasps. The door swung back. Trip peered into the dark opening. Beyond a small ledge an angled shaft was barely visible. The angle was just shy of straight down. "This is a garbage chute," Trip realized aloud. 

"That's what Malcolm said," Hoshi said through clenched teeth. 

"Well, yeah, but I thought there'd be a ladder…" Trip trailed off, noticing the sweat standing against Hoshi's pale skin. He didn't have time to talk about it. 

"C'mon. Let's get you in first." He picked her up and inserted her feet first, careful not to disturb the tool. "Ya gotta hold on for a minute and I'll get in ahead of you. Hopefully I can catch us both once we're on the right level." 

He had no idea how he was going to know that, but Hoshi was already inside. He would figure it out when the time came. Using her good leg and Trip's arm for support, she floundered momentarily in the slippery tube, then found purchase enough to scooch up to make room for him to sit in front of her. 

Trip extracted another stun grenade from his pouch, as well as a flashlight. He handed the light to Hoshi. Carefully, he climbed inside. It was even nastier smelling than the rest of the ship, but the metal it was made of was a little warmer. His feet slipped against the slick surface. The shaft was so wide he could only just touch the opposite side with his fingertips. No support there. 

Holding onto the ledge, he rested his butt in something wet. "Great," he muttered. He made a deliberate decision to not think about what it might be. Hoshi relaxed her weight against him. 

"Hold on just another sec," he warned, and she took the weight back off of him soundlessly. 

With one hand still supporting them, Trip used the other to set and toss the grenade back into the room, and slam the little door. He heard it go off, hopefully buying them some time. 

He reached beside him and tucked Hoshi's injured leg into his lap. He might be able to provide some protection with his body. "Ready?" 

For an answer, she settled back against him, locking her arms around his chest. Soaked with sweat from earlier exertions, Trip had been freezing almost since they'd entered Engineering—her warmth was a comfort. 

Taking a deep breath, Trip let go. 

***** 

  
**Chapter 17**   
  
Jon's body impacted the deck hard, air leaving his lungs as pain bloomed through his back. He rolled to his side, pulling himself partway up. He tried to take a deep breath and replace the oxygen he'd lost, but his lungs refused to respond. He opened his eyes and saw the boots of his K'Sarm opponent hit the floor as the alien jumped Engineering's steps—the same steps that he'd just knocked Jon down.   
  
Still grabbing unsuccessfully for air, Jon looked up, meeting the K'Sarm's black eyes. The K'Sarm snarled something as he aimed his weapon at the Captain; it was impossible to hear over the ruckus around them.   
  
A small boot, planted in the K'Sarm's chest, dissauded the alien from his course of action. The K'Sarm fell back, and Jon's defender—Sabah—followed the blow with a blast from her phaser.   
  
Satisfied, she fell to one knee, shouting, "Captain! Are you hurt?"   
  
With a gasp, the breath came back to Jon, his lungs grudgingly filling. He nodded his head, coughing and drawing deeply of the smoke filled air.   
  
At the same time, he and Sabah became aware of a change in the atmosphere. They both turned their heads to look the room over.   
  
The battle that had been raging since Jon and his team arrived in Engineering was over. The only K'Sarm in sight were dead or dying. Most of the Enterprise crew that were still standing looked at each other in confusion, clearly disoriented by the abrupt quiet.   
  
"Captain?" T'Pol appeared at Sabah's side.   
  
Jon decided to allow himself one moment of rest. He let his body fall back against the deck and grinned at them. "Saving my ass is becoming a habit for you, Lieutenant," he said to Sabah.   
  
She smiled, clearly relieved at his response. "You keep me well provided with the chance to feed my habit, sir," she replied dryly, and moved off. Laughing, he turned his head, watching her check on the wounded. He sighed. He needed to get up and take the next step…whatever that was.   
  
His back hurt. A lot.   
  
A hand settling on his chest brought his attention back to T'Pol. His smiled softened at the concern in her eyes. "I'm fine, T'Pol. But where did the K'Sarm go?"   
  
He managed to only wince slightly as she hauled him to his feet.   
  
"I do not know," she said. "We had not defeated them…they simply retreated."   
  
Her unease was contagious, spreading quickly to and through Jon. He yanked out his communicator. "Archer to Hudson."   
  
"Hudson here." The young man's voice sounded concerned but relatively calm.   
  
"How are things in the Armory, Lieutenant?"   
  
"We were under heavy attack until a few minutes ago, sir. The K'Sarm were on the verge of breaking through when they just…stopped."   
  
Jon glanced at T'Pol. Only a slight tension in her shoulders betrayed her growing concern. "Understood, Hudson. Hold your position for now; I'll get back to you."   
  
Ending the transmission, Jon turned back to T'Pol. "What do you…"   
  
She held up a hand, cutting him off. She cocked her head, listening.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Do you not hear that?"   
  
He started to answer 'no', when an odd sound caught his attention. He strained to hear it over the din of the Engineering crew, who had sprung into action after a few quick orders from Sabah. "Everybody quiet!" he shouted.   
  
Even as he said it, the ship shook slightly. The immediate silence that fell in the room made it possible to hear mechanical systems clanking above their heads.   
  
Jon looked at T'Pol. "Is that…?"   
  
"Systems are coming back online, sir!" Hess's shout cut him off. She was standing before a console, a thin line of blood trickling from a cut above her eye. She swiped at it impatiently, wiping her hand on her uniform before calling up more information.   
She glanced at him with a small, relieved smile on her face. "The clamps are releasing, Captain."   
  
Despite the pain it caused him, Jon huffed out a laugh. "And they say good guys always finish last."   
  
T'Pol just gave him a perplexed look before she began dispensing orders to the grinning crew.   
  
*****   
"I don't suppose you have a plan, Ensign?"   
  
"Find a way out," was the raspy answer.   
  
Crawling along behind him, Malcolm frowned at Travis's feet. "Do you have any idea where you're going?"   
  
Only a moment before they had heard Malcolm's charges go off in the distance. The K'Sarm would be coming soon, and Malcolm wanted to be out of this shaft before that happened.   
  
The top of his head banged abruptly into the Ensign's backside as Travis stopped dead. In the near dark, Travis's grin flashed back at him. "Nice…to know you care…but not the time."   
  
Malcolm was grateful it was too dark to see his flush. Before he could come up with a suitably scalding comment, Travis was opening another vent cover. "Over the galley. Nobody here…now. Access to garbage shaft."   
  
Travis was hardly able to speak now, and Malcolm's concern grew. If Travis passed out, he doubted he'd be able to carry him.   
  
"Good thinking, Ensign. I'll go first and confirm we are alone."   
  
Travis moved ahead to give Malcolm access to the opening. Using his surveillance equipment, Malcolm scanned the room. No sign of K'Sarm, so he dropped out of the ceiling, landing heavily on his feet, weapon drawn. The galley consisted of multiple long dining tables, with cooling and replication units along the walls. The light was intense, but it made it easy to see that the room was indeed empty.   
  
"Clear," he said.   
  
He stepped out of the way and Travis came down beside him. Malcolm reached out to steady the Ensign's fall and found himself catching the young man's full weight instead. He lowered them both to the floor. Travis appeared to be unconscious.   
  
Malcolm left him on the floor and headed for the cooling unit. Inside he found a pitcher of icy liquid, which he poured directly on Travis's face.   
  
Travis opened his eyes, chest heaving.   
  
"Get up, Ensign," Malcolm said flatly. Travis did not need sympathy; he needed to put one foot in front of the other. Until he could do it himself, Malcolm would provide the motivation.   
  
Travis made a half hearted attempt, and fell back onto the floor. "Can't. Go." He shoved weakly at Malcolm's shoulder.   
"You once walked through a revolution to find me. You saved my life. I won't leave you now. Up."   
  
Travis looked at him sadly, resignedly. "Can't."   
  
Malcolm slapped him. Looking into Travis's wide eyes, he ground out, "GET. UP."   
  
For a half a second, Travis was still. Then, aided by Malcolm yanking on his collar, he grabbed a table leg and drug himself upward. He waited, almost lying on the table, while Malcolm located and opened the waste disposal. His breath sounded terribly shallow to Malcolm as the Lieutenant helped him over and inside. Malcolm handed him a flashlight.   
  
"Remember, you have to catch yourself on the second level, otherwise you'll fall into the incinerator. Can you do that?"   
  
Travis nodded.   
  
"Then go," Malcolm instructed. A soft whoosh and Travis was gone. Without hesitation, Malcolm followed him. He used his boots to slow himself as he descended swiftly. Ahead of him he could see the steady light of Travis's flashlight, moving quickly. They had to go eleven levels and Malcolm counted as he saw Travis's light bounce against each entrance door. Three…four…five. In seconds, he saw Travis pass the tenth level. "Next one!" he shouted, his voice echoing. "Catch it!"   
  
There was a peculiar impact sound, a shout, and Travis's light blinked out. Malcolm didn't have time to react at all before he slammed into a knot of bodies.   
  
*****   
  
**Chapter 18**   
  
Engineering was on deck 14. They needed deck 2. Logic dictated that he only needed to count twelve doors and they would be on deck 2. Easier said than done, Trip realized as they hurtled down the smelly shaft. Slowing their descent was nearly impossible, what with Hoshi's dead weight against him. Whenever he moved his right leg to catch them, she would cry out, overwhelmed by the pressure on her bad leg. Each time wrenched his heart, and he nearly screamed with frustration the last time. She also couldn't seem to hold the light steady; it churned wildly around them.   
  
Trip was only 90 percent certain they had the right deck when he finally stuck out his right leg and abruptly stopped their descent. He flailed his hands crazily, catching the lip of the ledge.   
  
Their bodies twisted, the impact jolted his leg, and Hoshi slipped under him. She dropped the flashlight. Somehow she maintained her death grip around his waist and didn't fall any farther. There was a sound, Trip felt intense heat directly below them and the light disappeared, presumably into the incinerator. He had guessed right. Which also meant that falling at this point was not an option.   
  
"Hoshi," he said, "you're gonna have to crawl up me. I can't lift us both at once."   
  
"I don't think I can," she said in a small voice. The pain in her tone seemed amplified by the echo in the tube.   
  
"Yes, you can," Trip said earnestly. "You just gotta get far enough to hold on to the ledge for a minute an' I'll do the rest."   
  
The ridged ledge bit into his fingers. "Hurry, darlin'."   
  
Hoshi put a hand on his shoulder and pulled. Using her good leg to push against the slick tube, she raised herself up and came face to face with him. She settled the other hand onto the ledge. Her weight shifted off of his body a bit—it was impossible for it to be entirely since she was basically laying on him.   
  
"Good," Trip said. He turned his body, trying to slide up and out from under her, all without bumping her right leg. His right thigh, where her calf had rested, was soaked, and he knew it was with her blood. The knocks on the way down had torn the wound even more. "Just…"   
  
Her body tensed against his. "Hold on," she yelled into his ear.   
  
He looked up and saw a light rushing down. He heard an unintelligible shout just before a heavy force slammed into them. He yelped but maintained his hold on the ledge. Hoshi slipped back down, clinging to his waist, one of her hands locked in the front of his uniform. The light kept going past them. He heard a sound, felt the heat, and the light was gone.   
  
A rush of air was the only warning before the second impact hit them. Someone's foot ground onto his hand as the person caught themselves by wedging their body sideways across the shaft. His smashed fingers tore against the ledge and one hand slipped off.   
  
"Chok!" he shouted, swearing in Jafari. The weight on him had increased drastically—whoever had hit them first was wrapped around him and Hoshi. And the guy was heavy.   
  
"Trip?" said a clipped voice above him.   
  
So the guy standing on his hand had been Malcolm. Figured. Trip could only grunt in response.   
  
"He can't hold us both for long," Hoshi panted, referring to herself and the other person Trip was supporting.   
  
"I can't move," Malcolm said.   
  
Someone clinging to Trip started to climb up him. Ragged breathing, and faint, familiar cologne identified the person as Travis. He had wedged his long legs between the sides of the shaft for leverage, completing the climb with little hops until his chest was against Trip's face.   
  
"Squathin' m'," Trip muttered.   
  
Travis punched the door open, letting in weak light, and hauled himself through. Trip breathed again, his load lessened. Travis leaned back in enough to grasp Trip's wrist.   
  
"Hoshi," Trip said. Her face was pressed into his side. She lifted her head and pulled herself up him. As soon as she was in reach, Travis let go of Trip and yanked her upward.   
  
"Careful," Trip warned sharply. He heard her sob and knew it came too late. But she was through and he had only to pull himself up. But first…   
  
"Malcolm, you go. That way I can catch you if ya start t' fall."   
  
"You first," Malcolm grunted.   
  
"Go, Malcolm." _And hurry up, dammit_, he added privately. The cuts in his fingers were nearly to the bone now…he couldn't hold on forever.   
  
He heard Malcolm shift and looked up to see him scramble through with Travis's assistance. Almost immediately, the Lieutenant turned back and grabbed Trip's wrist, hauling him upward. Having his hand pried off the ledge almost hurt more than holding on, but Trip didn't have a chance to protest before he was lying in the floor next to them all.   
  
They were in a small alcove, decorated in typical gray. Apparently the place was icy, sharp and butt-ugly all over—no wonder its crew was always so pissed off. That thought was processed in the back of his mind as he checked out his companions. Malcolm was leaning around the corner of the alcove—Trip couldn't see much beyond him. Travis knelt on Trip's left, gasping shallowly. He looked awful.   
  
Trip looked to Hoshi on his right. She sat back against the wall below the trash chute. Her eyes were screwed shut, teeth digging into her lip. The leg was bleeding; the now loose tool wobbled sickly with her slightest movement. The sight was nauseating, and Trip had to calm his face before he spoke quietly.   
  
"Hoshi."   
  
Her eyes opened to slits. He couldn't let her focus on the pain. "Don't close your eyes—look at me. We're almost out of here now, back to Nita."   
  
Recognition, determination replaced some of the cloud in her eyes. He continued, "I bet she's driving the doc crazy by now—he's prob'ly dyin' for us to get back."   
  
Despite his unfortunate choice of words, her eyes smiled a little. "She is her father's daughter."   
  
Trip touched her face with his good hand. "I love you. Think about that and Nita, 'k?"   
  
She nodded and he left her side.   
  
"How we doin', Travis?" Trip asked quietly as he crept towards Malcolm.   
  
"Fine," Travis panted. Trip stifled the doubtful look that threatened to cross his face. "I want you to find somethin' and bind Hoshi's leg," he whispered. "I'm afraid t' take that thing out, but it can't keep flappin' around like that."   
  
Travis glanced at Hoshi, nodded, and crawled in her direction.   
  
Up beside Malcolm, Trip peered out into a wide, low hanger. It was stocked with a number of small ships, all of them sleek and shaped like arrow heads. A few K'Sarm guards scurried about. Internal sensors were presumably still down, given the small amount of personnel in this sector of the ship, but they were on the alert.   
  
"What's the plan?" he whispered.   
  
Malcolm glanced at him. "Take one of these back to Enterprise. By now, the Captain should have control of the ship again, and once we're on board, we'll go to warp. But first, I have to get to that computer terminal." He pointed to the opposite side of the hanger and Trip gaped at him.   
  
Malcolm continued, "While the first wave of K'Sarm hunts and kills their victims, another group enters the bridge and downloads the ship's computer databases. It would be disastrous to let them keep that information."   
  
Trip looked back at Hoshi and Travis. His instinct was to pack them on the first shuttle and get the hell out, but he knew Malcolm was right. "How long you need?"   
  
"Five, ten minutes? I'm not sure."   
  
Trip ducked his head in frustration. "Fine," he sighed. "But how're you gonna get over there?"   
  
Malcolm shook his head dismissively, annoying Trip. "Give me ten minutes, then get them onboard the closest ship. If I don't meet you there, leave without me."   
  
Trip's temper sparked. He caught Malcolm's arm. Malcolm swung confused eyes back to him. "I'll give you five, Lieutenant. And if you aren't there once I have them onboard, I'm coming after you."   
  
To his surprise, Malcolm grinned a little. "Spoken like a Starfleet officer," he murmured.   
  
Trip waited a beat, then grinned back. "I mean it, Malcolm."   
  
Malcolm raised his hand in a mock salute. "Aye, sir." He darted across to the first shuttle, undetected. Trip took out his phaser. Holding it in his torn right hand hurt like a son of a bitch, but he was a lousy shot with his left hand. He settled down to watch and wait.   
  
*****   
Through heavily lidded eyes, Hoshi watched Trip's back. She didn't know where Malcolm had gone, but she did know that Trip didn't like it.   
  
Her leg was agony. When Travis used strips of his torn off sleeve to reinforce the wound, she'd had to bite down on her own wrist to keep from screaming. She barely felt the bite, but she tasted copper. Thankfully, the white hot pain had faded to a more tolerable scarlet after he had finished.   
  
"I want to get out of here." The sound of her own voice startled her; she hadn't meant to say it aloud.   
  
Trip glanced back at her, but hadn't heard what she'd said. Travis answered her. "Me…too. Soon."   
  
Another few minutes stretched before Trip grunted in disgust. He crawled back to them. "We can't wait any longer. Travis, can you walk? I gotta help Hosh."   
  
Travis nodded slowly. "Give me…the phaser."   
  
Trip glanced at him. Apparently Travis looked confident, because he handed the phaser over. Kneeling before Hoshi, he turned his back to her. "Climb on, Hoshi. I think we can go faster if I just carry you."   
  
Feeling a little embarrassed, Hoshi wrapped her arms around his neck. He stood, catching her thighs and lifting her. With one last heave, he got her in place. Her throbbing leg stuck out ahead of them. She pressed her face against his warm neck. The well-known smell of his sweaty hair and skin was reassuring.   
  
"Head for the nearest shuttle," he told Travis, the reverberations of his deep voice thrumming against her chest and face. She kept her face down, even once he started a jarring run.   
  
He'd only taken a few steps when he halted and slouched. Hoshi raised her head—they were huddled against a shuttle while Travis got the door open. It slid back with a hiss only she could hear. Travis entered first, then turned back to help Trip get in with Hoshi. Between them, they eased her onto the floor of the little vessel. Despite their best efforts, she was hard pressed not to scream at them for the pain they caused her. Her resolve held, though—at the moment, her pain wasn't especially important.   
  
"I'll be right back," Trip said to Travis. "You be ready to take off."   
  
Knowing he was going after Malcolm, Hoshi didn't say a word. Trip disappeared out the door and Travis moved to the helm. Hoshi lay on her back and took in her surroundings. The narrow ship looked much like the large K'Sarm ship, although it was currently dark inside. There were two seats at the helm. The rest of the shuttle was empty, without even seats. Maybe they used it to haul cargo, she mused.   
  
She was working very hard at not thinking about what Trip was doing or the piece of metal stuck through her calf. She was afraid to speak to Travis for fear of K'Sarm being close by. She could hear him working at the controls. The only other sound inside was his breathing.   
  
A small explosion rang out in the hanger. Seconds later, Hoshi heard pounding feet approaching. She sat up. "Start it, Travis."   
  
"How…"   
  
"Do it."   
  
He complied, the engine coming to life with a whine. Lights came on through the little craft. She reached out awkwardly and opened the door. Immediately, they both heard shouting, shots, and running. Trip and then Malcolm hurtled through the door, Trip shouting, "GO!" Hoshi barely managed to pull herself out of the way and shut the door.   
  
Malcolm struggled to his feet and got into the chair beside Travis. Phaser fire thudded uselessly against the hull. As the Ensign lifted the craft and brought it around, Malcolm engaged the weapons. He blasted a hole through the bay doors just before Travis shot them through and out into open space.   
  
"Take us back in close to them," Malcolm shouted.   
  
The K'Sarm ship loomed. Travis came in at a sharp angle, running them along the hull. In the back, Trip and Hoshi slid around helplessly. Trip managed to pull her to him and tuck her into his body.   
  
"Where the hell is Enterprise?" Trip shouted.   
  
"She's not on the sensors," Malcolm answered.   
  
Hoshi gasped. They hadn't waited for them?   
  
In an instant, her fears were allayed. As Travis brought them down the side of the ship, they came out underneath it and saw Enterprise. Still beneath the K'Sarm ship, she had been undetectable to their sensors.   
  
"Look at that," Travis said.   
  
At the same time, Malcolm snapped, "I thought you released the clamps."   
  
"I did," Trip said, letting go of Hoshi to move up between their seats. Hoshi sat up enough to see what they were looking at.   
  
Enterprise was still underneath the K'Sarm ship because it was locked there, one of the clamps set firmly in her hull. Enterprise was rocking back and forth in an attempt to break free, but it was doing more damage to her than the clamp.   
  
"Son of a…it must've malfunctioned. Shit! I should've checked to make sure," Trip said. They whizzed between the two ships, coming close enough to the clamp for Hoshi to see the rivets in its joints.   
  
"Bring us back around, Travis," Malcolm said. The Ensign was already in the process. At the far end of the K'Sarm ship, they circled and faced the underbelly again. Malcolm's hands moved over the console and the shuttle's weapons discharged. They hit the clamp full on, doing visible damage but not destroying it.   
  
They rushed past and came around again. Malcolm fired the weapons. This time, they demolished the clamp entirely—just as Enterprise lurched in an attempt to break free.   
  
The momentum of breaking free just as the clamp disintegrated drove Enterprise upward. The shuttle was caught between the two ships, forced up into the hull of the K'Sarm ship. Seeing the impact just before it happened, Hoshi screamed.   
  
Metal crunched with a spine stiffening screech.   
  
*****  
  
  
*****   
  
**Chapter 19**   
  
  
"Get us free, Lieutenant!"   
  
"Sir, I'm trying. The clamp is too strong; it's ripping out our hull," Hess answered. Jon stood beside her, holding on as the ship jerked. They had quickly discovered that one of the clamps had not detached.   
  
"Full throttle," he said, unnecessarily. She was doing everything she could. He turned to T'Pol.   
  
"Any sign of them?"   
  
She raised her eyes from her readings, met his gaze, and shook her head.   
  
Jon took a deep breath. The priority was to get this ship, containing most of his crew, free. He glanced at Hess. "What if you…?"   
  
His statement was cut off by an outside explosion. The ship lurched, tossing most of them to the floor. "Report! Jon shouted, clambering to his feet and assisting T'Pol to do the same.   
  
Hands on her station, Hess had kept her feet. She shrugged slightly, attention focused on thrusting the ship back and forth again. T'Pol answered instead. "It is a small K'Sarm vessel. They fired on and damaged the clamp." She paused. "They're coming about again."   
  
Jon whipped around. "Hess! Wait!"   
  
Again, his voice was drowned out. As they heard and felt weapons fire hit above them, Hess threw Enterprise forward. The ship pitched, tossing them down again. There was a hideous, screeching grind of metal, so sharp pitched that T'Pol grimaced and covered her sensitive ears. From his position on his hands and knees, Jon yelled, "What the hell was that?"   
  
T'Pol stood shakily on the still shuddering floor and checked her screen. "We have collided with the K'Sarm ship." The screech of metal finally died, and she lowered her voice. "But we are free."   
  
"What about the shuttle?"   
  
"I believe they were caught between the two ships. I do not see them on our sensors." Facing Jon's shocked eyes, she added, "However, our ship has suffered heavy damage—the sensors are only operating at 38 percent efficiency."   
  
That was probably supposed to make him feel better.   
  
*****   
  
Trip didn't have time to reach for Hoshi when he heard her scream. The two larger ships came together like a mouth slamming shut, the bit of space between them disappearing. He braced himself for the impact even as he saw, suddenly, that they were going to make it. Travis turned the ship slightly and space loomed before them.   
  
Trip took in a breath to crow in triumph…and had it knocked from him as something caught the shuttle with a terrible crunch. His body shot forward, falling against Travis and Malcolm. Slowed but not halted, the shuttle went into a tailspin.   
  
Disoriented by the sound and force of the spin, Trip tried to hold himself with moderate success. "Travis!" he shouted and reached for the controls. Catching hold of them was almost impossible with the movement of the ship and Travis's body in the way, but he managed to force his hand between the Ensign's chest and the console.   
  
By some miracle, Trip straightened their roll out. He breathed again as he was able to find a better position and yank an unconscious Travis out of the way. "Hoshi?" he shouted.   
  
She didn't answer. Trip chanced a look over his shoulder. He could see her still feet. Beside him, Malcolm stirred. Reed fell back, hand to his face.   
  
"Y' ok, Malcolm?" Trip asked. He was in an awkward position, reaching around Travis to steer.   
  
"Yes." The blood pouring from his face belied the word, but Trip ignored it.   
  
"Good. Cause I need you to get back there and check on Hoshi."   
  
He wasn't sure that Malcolm was coherent enough to understand, but the Lieutenant struggled out of his seat and squeezed past Trip. While Trip brought them around, headed for Enterprise, Malcolm called out, "She's unconscious, but she's breathing."   
  
The bind around Trip's chest loosened a bit. He didn't reply; instead he dug for his communicator.   
  
"Tucker to Enterprise." He could see the ship above them, still tucked in the relative safety of the K'Sarm ship's underbelly.   
  
After a brief pause, Jon's relieved voice came back. "Good to hear your voice, Trip. You guys ready to come home?"   
  
"Just need you to open up a door for me."   
  
"Shuttlebay Two. We'll be waiting."   
  
"Understood." Trip ended the communication. To Malcolm, he remarked, "Been a while since I did this."   
  
Malcolm didn't answer.   
  
Ahead, the shuttlebay doors opened. Trip guided them inside, landing roughly. Even as the doors closed behind them, he heard Enterprise's warp engine come to life.   
  
He looked back. Malcolm was sitting in the floor of the ship, Hoshi's head in his lap. Her eyes were slitted open, but they weren't focused. Trip looked at Malcolm. "You take care of Travis?"   
  
Malcolm nodded woozily.   
  
Trip was at Hoshi's side instantly. He shoved the door open and lifted her in his arms, half draped over his shoulder. She grasped him weakly.   
  
The first thing he saw when he stepped outside was Jon and Sabah, running towards them.   
  
Trip didn't pause. "Where's Phlox?"   
  
"Sickbay," Jon said.   
  
Trip nodded. "Malcolm and Travis are inside." Sabah ran on to the shuttle. "They're gonna need some help." With that, he rushed past his Captain, almost running to Sickbay.   
  
*****   
  
In moments, he was coming through Sickbay's door. He stopped short at the sight of the trashed room. There was no sign of the doctor.   
  
He settled Hoshi on a biobed and went to the back of the room. Quickly, he entered the code that he'd seen Malcolm put in hours before. The door slid open.   
  
Trip found himself facing the wrong end of a phase pistol. "Whoa!" He threw up his hands, jumping backwards. "It's me, Doc!"   
  
"Commander Tucker." Sounding relieved, Phlox lowered the weapon.   
  
Trip didn't have time to answer before a tiny force clambered over the doctor and hit Trip in the chest. He closed his arms around his daughter, saying, "Hoshi needs you, doc."   
  
He stepped out of Phlox's way, and the doctor climbed out clumsily.   
  
Trip's instinct was to follow, but he knew Hoshi was in good hands. He had another responsibility first. He waited until he heard Phlox draw a curtain around Hoshi's bed. With some difficulty, Trip loosened Nita's vise-like grip from his waist and lifted her in his arms.   
  
Her face was tear-streaked and frightened. Trip tenderly touched her hair and face, relishing the heavy feel of her warm little body in his arms. She met his gaze solemnly.   
  
Trip kissed her cheeks, squeezing her against him. "It's ok now, baby girl. Everything's fine now. We're safe."   
  
He heard Sickbay doors swished open—crewmen entered, some injured, some helping the injured. Malcolm and Sabah came in, awkwardly assisting Travis. Liz Cutler appeared from nowhere and took the Ensign from them, taking Travis's weight on her own shoulders.   
  
Face buried against his neck, Nita said, "I want Ene."   
  
"Ene doesn't feel good, baby. Doctor Phlox is gonna make her feel better…an' then you can see her."   
  
Nita snuffled. She was too exhausted to offer any argument. Thank God, Trip thought. He was suddenly having a hard time finding the energy to stand, let alone argue. He leaned weakly against a counter, watching the activity in the next room. Or more accurately, looking through the activity to watch the curtain concealing Hoshi.   
  
Trip thought tiredly of everything that needed to be done. There would be hull breaches all over A Deck, Engineering was already a wreck last time he'd seen it, someone needed to check sensors and make sure they weren't being followed…   
  
He wasn't going anywhere just yet. With Nita curled against him, Trip waited.   
  
Finally, Phlox popped out from behind the curtain. His eyes met Trip's—and he smiled one of his giant grins. "She is asking for you both…and I don't believe she is in the mood to be kept waiting."   
  
*****   
  
**Epilogue**   
  
_In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities._   
-Janos Arany   
  
  
It was well after midnight when he came 'home' to their quarters. Nita had long since fallen asleep, curled up on the little couch that served as her bed. Hoshi sat on the bunk she and Trip shared, trying to read while she waited. But her mind was mostly on her family. She was amazed at her daughter's resilience; four days after the battle, Nita showed no signs of stress. She was back to her usual antics, alternating between cajoling Hoshi to play games with her and demanding to visit Trip in Engineering.   
  
And Trip was just…Trip. His easy smile was back in place, despite the toll of the battle and making repairs to Enterprise. Once, she'd caught him watching her and Nita at dinner, an odd look on his face. But it had passed as soon as she made eye contact, and Hoshi was confident that her husband-to-be (given their history, there was a certain irony to that term that always made her smile) was working through things on his own.   
  
At the sound of the door, Hoshi looked up, her smile widening. Trip had been working round the clock on the repairs to Enterprise. He looked awful as he drug himself over to a chair and dropped down.   
  
Hoshi grimaced in sympathy. Despite the doctor's orders, she hated spending her days in bed while the rest of the crew worked nonstop—most of them resembling the living dead as they worked through their exhaustion. The nasty metaphor brought to mind the losses of recent days and she forced her mind back to the present.   
  
"Tired?" she asked softly.   
  
"Oh yeah." Rubbing at his neck, Trip glanced at her. He pitched his voice low, although they both knew it would take a lot more than a conversation to wake Nita. He smiled. "Hey, you remember that death repair station?"   
  
"The one that tried to keep Travis?"   
  
"Yeah, I know…bad news. But what I wouldn't give for some of that technology right now."   
  
She grinned and gestured to her leg, propped out in front of her. "I know what you mean."   
  
Immediately, Trip frowned. "Does it still hurt much?"   
  
She waved her hand dismissively. "It will heal. How are the repairs going?"   
  
A question about Engineering was always the quickest way to distract him. He launched into a lengthy description of the bridge refurbishing. The K'Sarm had done significant damage before they left, although Trip's team already had it habitable.   
  
Hoshi rested her head back on the pillow, lulled by the tones of his voice. She felt a little guilty for employing the method so often, but she was tired of discussing her leg. Besides, talking about his tools and ship made him so happy. Happier than she'd heard him in many, many years…happier than farming had ever made him.   
  
Trip suddenly sat down on the bed. "Are you even listenin' to me?"   
  
She smiled at him again as he absently trailed a hand up and down her arm. Since the K'Sarm attack, neither of them could get enough of touching the other or Nita, constantly seeking reassurance that they'd all made it through.   
  
"Sorry. I was thinking," she said.   
  
"About?"   
  
She caught his hand in midstroke, holding it in her own. "Jon came to see me today. He tried to be subtle…" they both smiled at that idea, "but he's still waiting for us to make a decision."   
  
"He shouldn't be botherin' you right now. I told him…"   
  
Hoshi interrupted him, mid-rant. "He's right. We have to give him our answer. It's time, Trip."   
  
She held his gaze with her own. For a moment, he looked back at her. Then he turned his head towards Nita, deftly avoiding her eyes while he answered.   
  
"I think the choice is pretty obvious."   
  
"So do I," Hoshi said.   
  
She added, "We have to stay on Enterprise," at the same time that Trip said, "We've gotta go home to Earth."   
  
He turned back to her sharply. "What'd you say?"   
  
In response to his near shout, Hoshi sat up. She enunciated each word carefully, pointedly lowering her voice. "We belong on Enterprise."   
  
Trip was looking at her like she'd grown an extra head. He lowered his voice to a hiss. "We just saw first hand how dangerous it is out here. What about Nita? What kinda parents would we be if we don't think of her safety first?"   
  
"What kind of parents would we be if we taught her to run when things get scary?" A part of Hoshi couldn't believe she was saying this. But she and Trip were nose to nose now, and deep in the back of his eyes, she could see hope moving. She pressed on. "I know how much this ship means to you. You belong on Enterprise, Trip. I belong on Enterprise. And that means Nita does, too. She loves it here. She deserves parents who are happy…neither of us would be happy back on Earth. Not as happy as we could be here."   
  
A muscle twitched in Trip's jaw as he considered what she was saying.   
  
She said, "Travis grew up in space. He loved it."   
  
"Enterprise isn't exactly the same thing as a cargo ship that sticks to one run and barely makes warp." His considering tone contradicted the negative statement.   
  
"No. It isn't." Hoshi waited, watching his face.   
  
He looked at her carefully. "Are you sure, Hoshi?"   
  
When she said "Yes", his face broke out in an enormous grin. "Then I'm with you, darlin'."   
  
He raised a hand to her face, drawing her forward so that he could kiss her softly. Hoshi held him there, deepening the kiss. The conversation quickly slipped their minds. She drew him back down onto the bunk with her. He stretched out, careful of her leg. After a moment, he raised his head and sighed. "First thing I'm gonna do is get the Cap'n's permission to link our room to that empty cabin next door. Give Nita her own room."   
  
Hoshi snickered. "We got along all right in the home-tree."   
  
"Still…" Trip lowered his mouth back to hers.   
  
*****   
  
_Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to...with the same weapons which today arm you against the present._   
-Marcus Aurelius   
  
  
Jon strode into the armory. Despite the late hour, he was still dressed in his uniform. He was also covered in grease and totally fatigued, having spent the last sixteen hours helping out with repairs, doing any work that Trip assigned him. They'd lost nine crewmembers in the battle with the K'Sarm, plenty more were injured, and every hand was needed to get Enterprise back on her feet. The entire crew was on a six hours off, twelve hours on schedule. Most of them were working far beyond that. Until their new crewmembers arrived, via Vulcan ship, there was no one to relieve them.   
  
But they were making progress. Jon almost smiled as he thought about it. The crisis was past.   
  
The armory crew was as filthy as he was. Jon made a point of smiling at a few of them as he made his way to the other side of the room.   
  
"Malcolm? You wanted to see me?"   
  
Malcolm turned at his voice. Jon's armory officer looked terrible—his uniform disheveled, hair standing on end. Dark circles stood out around his eyes.   
  
"Lieutenant, when was the last time you slept?"   
  
Malcolm shrugged noncommittally.   
  
"I've ordered him straight to bed after this meeting, Captain."   
  
Jon hadn't even noticed Phlox standing to the side. _God, I really am tired._   
  
As if reading his mind, Phlox frowned. "I'll have to ask you to do the same, Captain. You humans are remarkably resilient, but you do have your limits. In fact, I saw Commander Tucker a few moments ago, and he was practically asleep on his feet. I sent him straight…"   
  
"The two of you needed something?" Jon interrupted rudely. He wasn't the most patient person under the best circumstances, and these definitely weren't the best circumstances.   
  
"Yes, sir," Malcolm said. "I'm sorry to call you so late, but I felt you needed to know immediately." He glanced at Phlox, who nodded. The doctor's cheerful smile was gone now.   
  
Malcolm continued, "I'll get straight to the point, sir. As you know, when we were on the K'Sarm ship, one of my missions was to retrieve or destroy any part of Enterprise's database that the K'Sarm might have downloaded."   
  
Jon nodded. As soon as Enterprise was clear of the K'Sarm ship, Jon had contacted Starfleet Command to let them know what had transpired. A Vulcan ship had been dispatched almost immediately, but when they reached the coordinates where the K'Sarm ship should have been, the K'Sarm were gone. It was a great relief to know that they had not escaped with vital information on Starfleet weapons or other information.   
  
Malcolm blanched. "While I was in the process of erasing the information, I was discovered by the K'Sarm. If it hadn't been for Commander Tucker, I would most likely have been killed. As it was, I was forced to make a choice…I was out of time. I elected to leave part of our medical database." At Jon's expression, he rushed to explain. "It was that or our weapons information, sir, and I reasoned that the K'Sarm had already scanned us—they were already familiar with our physiology."   
  
"That makes sense, Malcolm. So what's the problem?"   
  
"Well, sir, it still bothered me, leaving them with anything. I finally decided to discuss it with Phlox, to confirm that nothing of value was left behind."   
  
Jon turned to Phlox. "Doctor?"   
  
"Lieutenant Reed was correct in assuming that the K'Sarm would have little to learn about human physiology, Captain. However…there were other items in my records. Including my research and findings regarding Commander Tucker, Hoshi, and Nita after their return from Massum."   
  
"I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm pretty tired; I'm afraid you're going to have to spell it out for me. What does that mean?" Jon looked at them expectantly.   
  
Malcolm said, "It means that if the K'Sarm go through those records—and I've no doubt that they will sooner or later—they will know everything about the Jafari village, and their ability to slow aging. A commodity like that would be priceless to anyone…but especially the K'Sarm."   
  
Jon gaped at him.   
  
Obviously exhausted, Malcolm blinked back angry tears as he met his Captain's eyes. "I'm sorry, sir. I was careless. Anything that happens to those people will be entirely my fault."   
  
It took a moment for the wheels to turn in Jon's head. Finally, he put a hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "Malcolm, you did everything you could—and you made the only possible decision."   
  
He turned and moved towards the corridor, Malcolm and Phlox falling into step beside him.   
  
"It doesn't matter anyway," Jon continued. "Because nothing is going to happen to those people. We aren't going to let it." He gave the men a small smile. "We're the good guys, remember? We're going to stop them."   
  
He believed it, too. Looking over at his companions—at Reed's shoulders squaring and at Phlox's answering smile—he saw that, this time, he wasn't the only one.   
  
Finis   
  
***** 


End file.
